Practice Typing

I was actually on the point of tears, though I knew perfectly well at that moment that all this was out of Pushkins Silvio and Lermontovs Masquerade. And all at once I felt horribly ashamed, so ashamed that I stopped the horse, got out of the sledge, and stood still in the snow in the middle of the street. The driver gazed at me, sighing and astonished.