April 25, 1919

On the window-sill we found some boiled beets and potatoes. I was very glad, but then I notice that the beets are half decayed and the potatoes frozen. Oh, papa, papa. … Tonka was right: he lets the supplies rot. What a miser! It is disgusting. I say to Shura, almost in tears:

“But it’s all rotted, Shura.”

He gazed and smiled in such a way that I wanted to cry.

“But we always eat rotten stuff. And he gives little enough of that. I warn you; you’ll get it if we eat this.”

“Never mind, eat. I’m not afraid of him.”

“And you?”

“I … I don’t want any.”

It is not true that I do not want it, but I simply feel nauseated at the sight of these moldy beets and potatoes. And Alexander eats greedily, greedily. I … I could never eat such beets.

An hour after Tonka left, Mitya came home. His face is pink, beaming, and self-satisfied. Tonka said rightly that they have no lack of bread. And is it not a shame that they do not help Shura! Isn’t he their brother!

Spying me, he said carelessly:

“So, you’ve come, Feiusha?”

And that was all.