“Those are the 250 roubles you dared to send him as a charity, by the hands of Tchebaroff,” explained Doktorenko.

“The article in the newspaper put it at fifty!” cried Colia.

“I beg your pardon,” said the prince, going up to Burdovsky. “I have done you a great wrong, but I did not send you that money as a charity, believe me. And now I am again to blame. I offended you just now.” (The prince was much distressed; he seemed worn out with fatigue, and spoke almost incoherently.) “I spoke of swindling⁠ ⁠… but I did not apply that to you. I was deceived.⁠ ⁠… I said you were⁠ ⁠… afflicted⁠ ⁠… like me⁠ ⁠… But you are not like me⁠ ⁠… you give lessons⁠ ⁠… you support your mother. I said you had dishonoured your mother, but you love her. She says so herself⁠ ⁠… I did not know⁠ ⁠… Gavrila Ardalionovitch did not tell me that⁠ ⁠… Forgive me! I dared to offer you 10,000 roubles, but I was wrong. I ought to have done it differently, and now⁠ ⁠… there is no way of doing it, for you despise me⁠ ⁠…”