Explore "Poor People" by Fyodor Dostoevsky on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
13th August
Dearest Makar Alexeyevich! It's just trouble after trouble coming down on us, I just don't even know myself what to do! What will happen to you now, and I can't be relied on; I burned my left hand today with the iron; I accidentally dropped it, and banged and burned my hand all at the same time. There's no way I can work, and Fedora has been sick for three days now. I'm in agonies with worry. I'm sending you thirty silver copecks; that's almost all we have left, but God knows how I should like to help you now with your needs. It's upsetting to the point of tears! Goodbye, my friend! It would be a great consolation to me if you were to visit us today.