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Updated: October 26, 2025
"As to what remains obscure in the fate of that poor Haldin," Sophia Antonovna dropped into a slowness of utterance which was to Razumov like the falling of molten lead drop by drop; "as to that though no one ever hinted that either from fear or neglect your conduct has not been what it should have been well, I have a bit of intelligence...."
Only yesterday Elena Antonovna complained to me of you. 'Well! And what did she tell you, if I may know? 'She told me that far one whole morning you would make no reply to all her questions but "what? what?" and always in the same squeaking voice. Pigasov laughed. 'But that was a happy idea, you'll allow, Alexandra Pavlovna, eh? 'Admirable, indeed!
Sophia Antonovna clapped her hands. "That, to my mind, settles it. The suspicions of my correspondent were aroused...." "Aha! Your correspondent," Razumov said in an almost openly mocking tone. "What suspicions? How aroused? By this Ziemianitch? Probably some drunken, gabbling, plausible..." "You talk as if you had known him." Razumov looked up. "No. But I knew Haldin."
It concerns your brother's arrest, she added. 'He was betrayed by a man of the people who has since hanged himself. Mr. Razumov will explain it all to you. I gave him the full information this afternoon. And please tell Mr. Razumov that Sophia Antonovna sends him her greetings. I am going away early in the morning far away."
Then, at the very last, on the point of separating, the feeling of relaxed tension already upon him, he heard Sophia Antonovna allude to the subject of his uneasiness. How it came about he could only guess, his mind being absent at the moment, but it must have sprung from Sophia Antonovna's complaints of the illogical absurdity of the people.
Sophia Antonovna had just returned from a secret excursion into Russia, and had seen Miss Haldin. She lived in a town "in the centre," sharing her compassionate labours between the horrors of overcrowded jails, and the heartrending misery of bereaved homes. She did not spare herself in good service, Sophia Antonovna assured me.
Oh yes, but I must tell you first...." His voice was muffled and he forced himself to produce it with visible repugnance, as if speech were something disgusting or deadly. "That story, you know the story I heard this afternoon...." "I know the story already," she said sadly. "You know it! Have you correspondents in St. Petersburg too?" "No. It's Sophia Antonovna. I have seen her just now.
Sophia Antonovna nodded gravely. "I see. Every word you say confirms to my mind the suspicion communicated to me in that very interesting letter. This Ziemianitch was found one morning hanging from a hook in the stable dead." Razumov felt a profound trouble. It was visible, because Sophia Antonovna was moved to observe vivaciously "Aha! You begin to see."
"One does not know what to think, Razumov. You must have bitten something bitter in your cradle." Razumov gave her a sidelong glance. "H'm! Something bitter? That's an explanation," he muttered. "Only it was much later. And don't you think, Sophia Antonovna, that you and I come from the same cradle?" "You mean Russia?" He disdained even to nod.
But then every bit and scrap of hint and information would be acted on, and fatally they were bound to get Haldin. Sophia Antonovna spread out her hands "Fatally." Fatality chance! Razumov meditated in silent astonishment upon the queer verisimilitude of these inferences. They were obviously to his advantage. "It is right now to make this conclusive evidence known generally."
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