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Raskolnikov interposed suddenly. "It's in accordance with your theory!" "In accordance with my theory?" "Why, carry out logically the theory you were advocating just now, and it follows that people may be killed..." "Upon my word!" cried Luzhin. "No, that's not so," put in Zossimov. Raskolnikov lay with a white face and twitching upper lip, breathing painfully.
"That's all right, go on." Luzhin shrugged his shoulders. "Your mamma had commenced a letter to you while I was sojourning in her neighbourhood. On my arrival here I purposely allowed a few days to elapse before coming to see you, in order that I might be fully assured that you were in full possession of the tidings; but now, to my astonishment..." "I know, I know!"
Known, that is, for a fact, that they would be the ruin of Katerina Ivanovna and the children and yourself thrown in since you don't count yourself for anything Polenka too... for she'll go the same way. Well, if suddenly it all depended on your decision whether he or they should go on living, that is whether Luzhin should go on living and doing wicked things, or Katerina Ivanovna should die?
"Mayn't I look at him after three years?" wept Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "Stay," he stopped them again, "you keep interrupting me, and my ideas get muddled.... Have you seen Luzhin?" "No, Rodya, but he knows already of our arrival. We have heard, Rodya, that Pyotr Petrovitch was so kind as to visit you today," Pulcheria Alexandrovna added somewhat timidly.
"There's a measure in all things," Luzhin went on superciliously. "Economic ideas are not an incitement to murder, and one has but to suppose..."
"I perceive, Avdotya Romanovna, that you seem disposed to undertake his defence all of a sudden," Luzhin observed, twisting his lips into an ambiguous smile, "there's no doubt that he is an astute man, and insinuating where ladies are concerned, of which Marfa Petrovna, who has died so strangely, is a terrible instance.
"He has been conscious a long time, since the morning," went on Razumihin, whose familiarity seemed so much like unaffected good-nature that Pyotr Petrovitch began to be more cheerful, partly, perhaps, because this shabby and impudent person had introduced himself as a student. "Your mamma," began Luzhin. "Hm!" Razumihin cleared his throat loudly. Luzhin looked at him inquiringly.
Why, for his sake we would not shrink even from Sonia's fate. Sonia, Sonia Marmeladov, the eternal victim so long as the world lasts. Have you taken the measure of your sacrifice, both of you? Is it right? Can you bear it? Is it any use? Is there sense in it? And let me tell you, Dounia, Sonia's life is no worse than life with Mr. Luzhin. 'There can be no question of love, mother writes.
"Then this is my fault again," said Luzhin, aggrieved. "Well, Pyotr Petrovitch, you keep blaming Rodion, but you yourself have just written what was false about him," Pulcheria Alexandrovna added, gaining courage. "I don't remember writing anything false."
So that's how it stands!" cried Luzhin, utterly unable to the last moment to believe in the rupture and so completely thrown out of his reckoning now. "So that's how it stands! But do you know, Avdotya Romanovna, that I might protest?" "What right have you to speak to her like that?" Pulcheria Alexandrovna intervened hotly. "And what can you protest about? What rights have you?
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