"Yes, I guess it's cold. And the floor is filled with frozen
cockroaches, and even the mice are frozen, too, I suppose.
Pelagueya Nilovna, will you let me sleep here to-night, please?"
he asked hoarsely without looking at her.
"Why, of course, Nikolay! You needn't even ask it!" the mother
quickly replied. She felt embarrassed and ill at ease in Nikolay's
presence, and did not know what to speak to him about. But he
himself went on to talk in a strangely broken voice.
"We live in a time when children are ashamed of their own parents."
"What!" exclaimed the mother, starting.
He glanced up at her and closed his eyes. His pockmarked face
looked like that of a blind man.
"I say that children have to be ashamed of their parents," he
repeated, sighing aloud. "Now, don't you be afraid. It's not
meant for you. Pavel will never be ashamed of you. But I am
ashamed of my father, and shall never enter his house again. I
have no father, no home! They have put me under the surveillance
of the police, else I'd go to Siberia. I think a man who won't
spare himself could do a great deal in Siberia. I would free
convicts there and arrange for their escape.
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