Brothers Karamazov Book IX Chapter VII

In which Dmitri Fyodorovitch bares his tormented soul with a candid confession of a secret he has borne for a month—his concealment and eventual squandering of entrusted money—as he grapples with shame and the painful distinctions between scoundrel and thief. Amidst a grim atmosphere of rain and weary faces, he wrestles with his conscience before the interrogators, seeking a fleeting solace for those he holds dear despite his own impending doom.