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In the passage the crowd of spectators from all the flats on the staircase grew denser and denser, but they did not venture beyond the threshold. A single candle-end lighted up the scene. At that moment Polenka forced her way through the crowd at the door.
Halfway down the staircase he was overtaken by the priest on his way home; Raskolnikov let him pass, exchanging a silent greeting with him. He was just descending the last steps when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Someone overtook him; it was Polenka. She was running after him, calling "Wait! wait!" He turned round. She was at the bottom of the staircase and stopped short a step above him.
Polenka with the two little ones in her arms crouched, terrified, on the trunk in the corner of the room, where she waited trembling for her mother to come back. Amalia Ivanovna raged about the room, shrieking, lamenting and throwing everything she came across on the floor.
"It's the name of a novel, 'Polenka Saxe. I read it when I was a student.... In it a very wealthy official of some sort, Saxe, arrested his wife at a summer villa for infidelity.... But, hang it; it's no consequence! You'll see, Mavriky Nikolaevitch will make you an offer before you get home. He doesn't see us yet." "Ach! Don't let him see us!" Liza cried suddenly, like a mad creature.
"You wouldn't believe, you can't imagine, Polenka," she said, walking about the room, "what a happy luxurious life we had in my papa's house and how this drunkard has brought me, and will bring you all, to ruin! That other was your father, Polya; papa was fearfully angry.... Is the water ready? Give me the shirt, and the stockings!
Raskolnikov began to realise that he might have made a mistake in having the injured man brought here. The policeman, too, stood in hesitation. "Polenka," cried Katerina Ivanovna, "run to Sonia, make haste. If you don't find her at home, leave word that her father has been run over and that she is to come here at once... when she comes in. Run, Polenka! there, put on the shawl."
To make room for the visitors the children had not even been laid for at the table; but the two little ones were sitting on a bench in the furthest corner with their dinner laid on a box, while Polenka as a big girl had to look after them, feed them, and keep their noses wiped like well-bred children's.
She has had to bear enough for us!" she pointed to Sonia. "Polenka, how much have you got? Show me! What, only two farthings! Oh, the mean wretches! They give us nothing, only run after us, putting their tongues out. There, what is that blockhead laughing at?" What do you want, Polenka? Tell me in French, parlez-moi francais. Why, I've taught you, you know some phrases.
Her pale, yellow, wasted face dropped back, her mouth fell open, her leg moved convulsively, she gave a deep, deep sigh and died. Sonia fell upon her, flung her arms about her, and remained motionless with her head pressed to the dead woman's wasted bosom. Polenka threw herself at her mother's feet, kissing them and weeping violently.
She was a piteous and unseemly spectacle, as she ran, weeping and panting for breath. Sonia and Polenka rushed after them. "Bring them back, bring them back, Sonia! Oh stupid, ungrateful children!... Polenka! catch them.... It's for your sakes I..." She stumbled as she ran and fell down. "She's cut herself, she's bleeding! Oh, dear!" cried Sonia, bending over her. All ran up and crowded around.
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