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Updated: June 1, 2025
Nastasya was overcome with a fit of laughter. She was given to laughter and when anything amused her, she laughed inaudibly, quivering and shaking all over till she felt ill. "And have you made much money by your thinking?" she managed to articulate at last. "One can't go out to give lessons without boots. And I'm sick of it." "Don't quarrel with your bread and butter."
"Please do," added Dounia. Razumihin bowed, positively radiant. For one moment, they were all strangely embarrassed. "Good-bye, Rodya, that is till we meet. I do not like saying good-bye. Good-bye, Nastasya. Ah, I have said good-bye again." Pulcheria Alexandrovna meant to greet Sonia, too; but it somehow failed to come off, and she went in a flutter out of the room.
"I think you can. She is at home, up-stairs," replied Marya Dmitrievna; "inquire for her." Lavretsky went up-stairs. He found Marfa Timofyevna also at cards; she was playing old maid with Nastasya Karpovna. Roska barked at him; but both the old ladies welcomed him cordially. Marfa Timofyevna especially seemed in excellent spirits. "Ah! Fedya!" she began, "pray sit down, my dear.
"Well, if you won't entertain him," said Marfa Timofyevna, "who will, poor fellow? I am too old for him, he is too clever for me, and for Nastasya Karpovna he's too old, it's only the quite young men she will look at." "How can I entertain Fedor Ivanitch?" said Lisa. "If he likes, had I not better play him something on the piano?" she added irresolutely.
Look, Nastasya, here are two specimens of headgear: this Palmerston" he took from the corner Raskolnikov's old, battered hat, which for some unknown reason, he called a Palmerston "or this jewel! Guess the price, Rodya, what do you suppose I paid for it, Nastasya!" he said, turning to her, seeing that Raskolnikov did not speak. "Twenty copecks, no more, I dare say," answered Nastasya.
We must arrange for him. My sister told me that Nastasya Petrovna, a friend of hers, lives somewhere here, so perhaps she will take him in as a boarder." He rummaged in his pocket-book, found a crumpled note and read: "'Little Lower Street: Nastasya Petrovna Toskunov, living in a house of her own. We must go at once and try to find her. It's a nuisance!"
As for getting the axe, that trifling business cost him no anxiety, for nothing could be easier. Nastasya was continually out of the house, especially in the evenings; she would run in to the neighbours or to a shop, and always left the door ajar. It was the one thing the landlady was always scolding her about. But these were doubtful points.
Nastasya, coming into his room at ten o'clock the next morning, had difficulty in rousing him. She brought him in tea and bread. The tea was again the second brew and again in her own tea-pot. "My goodness, how he sleeps!" she cried indignantly. "And he is always asleep." He got up with an effort. His head ached, he stood up, took a turn in his garret and sank back on the sofa again.
Raskolnikov made no response and held the paper in his hands, without opening it. "Don't you get up then," Nastasya went on compassionately, seeing that he was letting his feet down from the sofa. "You're ill, and so don't go; there's no such hurry. What have you got there?" He looked; in his right hand he held the shreds he had cut from his trousers, the sock, and the rags of the pocket.
But no matter, he will turn up. And I've been out on my own business, too. You know I've been moving to-day, moving with my uncle. I have an uncle living with me now. But that's no matter, to business. Give me the parcel, Nastasya. We will open it directly. And how do you feel now, brother?" "I am quite well, I am not ill. Razumihin, have you been here long?"
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