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Updated: June 1, 2025
When he went home and sat down to dinner his wife, Nastasya Ivanovna, said suddenly: "Oh yes, I was almost forgetting! Nina Sergeyevna came to see me yesterday and begged for your interest on behalf of a young man. I am told there is a vacancy in our Home. . . ." "Yes, but the post has already been promised to someone else," said the director, and he frowned.
"I... I did once speak," Stepan Trofimovitch faltered, crimsoning all over, "but... I only hinted... j'etais si nerveux et malade, et puis..." She laughed. "And your confidant didn't happen to be at hand, and Nastasya turned up. Well that was enough! And the whole town's full of her cronies! Come, it doesn't matter, let them know; it's all the better.
"Nastasya Ivanovna, what sort of children shall I have?" she asked the buffoon, who was coming toward her in a woman's jacket. "Why, fleas, crickets, grasshoppers," answered the buffoon. "O Lord, O Lord, it's always the same! Oh, where am I to go? What am I to do with myself?" And tapping with her heels, she ran quickly upstairs to see Vogel and his wife who lived on the upper story.
The countess was playing patience. Nastasya Ivanovna the buffoon sat with a sad face at the window with two old ladies. Natasha came into the room, went up to Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother and stood without speaking. "Why are you wandering about like an outcast?" asked her mother. "What do you want?" "Him... I want him... now, this minute!
It consisted of five creatures almost equally near to her heart; a big-cropped, learned bullfinch, which she had taken a fancy to because he had lost his accomplishments of whistling and drawing water; a very timid and peaceable little dog, Roska; an ill-tempered cat, Matross; a dark-faced, agile little girl nine years old, with big eyes and a sharp nose, call Shurotchka; and an elderly woman of fifty-five, in a white cap and a cinnamon-coloured abbreviated jacket, over a dark skirt, by name, Nastasya Karpovna Ogarkov.
"I say, why are you standing in the doorway?" Razumihin interrupted suddenly. "If you've something to say, sit down. Nastasya and you are so crowded. Nastasya, make room. Here's a chair, thread your way in!" He moved his chair back from the table, made a little space between the table and his knees, and waited in a rather cramped position for the visitor to "thread his way in."
"And Marfa Timofyevna," observed Shurotchka. "And Nastasya Karpovna," added Lenotchka, "and Monsier Lemm." "What? is Lemm dead?" inquired Lavretsky. "Yes," replied young Kalitin, "he left here for Odessa; they say some one enticed him there; and there he died." "You don't happen to know,... did he leave any music?" "I don't know; not very likely." All were silent and looked about them.
Zossimov cried cheerfully as they entered. He had come in ten minutes earlier and was sitting in the same place as before, on the sofa. Raskolnikov was sitting in the opposite corner, fully dressed and carefully washed and combed, as he had not been for some time past. The room was immediately crowded, yet Nastasya managed to follow the visitors in and stayed to listen.
You are taking a wife," Varvara Petrovna hissed malignantly. "Oui, j'ai pris un mot pour un autre. Mais c'est egal." He gazed at her with a hopeless air. "I see that e'est egal," she muttered contemptuously through her teeth. "Good heavens! Why he's going to faint. Nastasya, Nastasya, water!" But water was not needed. He came to himself. Varvara Petrovna took up her umbrella.
"Nastasya, don't be bashful, but help me that's it," and in spite of Raskolnikov's resistance he changed his linen. The latter sank back on the pillows and for a minute or two said nothing. "It will be long before I get rid of them," he thought. "What money was all that bought with?" he asked at last, gazing at the wall. "Money?
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