‘Crime? What crime?’ he exclaimed in a sudden fit of fury. ‘My killing a loathsome, harmful louse, a filthy old moneylender woman who brought no good to anyone, to murder whom would pardon forty sins, who sucked the lifeblood of the poor, and you call that a crime? I don't think about it and I have no plans to wipe it out. And why do they keep poking me from all sides with their “Crime, crime!”? Only now do I see clearly the whole absurdity of my cowardice, now, when I've already taken the resolve to go to this needless shame!
