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And how if you didn't know me at all, did you come to talk to Nikodim Fomitch about me? So they don't care to hide that they are tracking me like a pack of dogs. They simply spit in my face." He was shaking with rage. "Come, strike me openly, don't play with me like a cat with a mouse. It's hardly civil, Porfiry Petrovitch, but perhaps I won't allow it!
"Did you go out yesterday?" "Yes." "Though you were ill?" "Yes." "At what time?" "About seven." "And where did you go, my I ask?" "Along the street." "Short and clear." Raskolnikov, white as a handkerchief, had answered sharply, jerkily, without dropping his black feverish eyes before Ilya Petrovitch's stare. "He can scarcely stand upright. And you..." Nikodim Fomitch was beginning.
Seeing that in her opinion all men are fond of "women like that," Nadyezhda Fyodorovna might have a bad effect on Nikodim Alexandritch too.
"What have you brought this for, you brute?" he asked Kerbalay, deliberately articulating each word. "I ordered you to give us kvarel, and what have you brought, you ugly Tatar? Eh? What?" "We have plenty of wine of our own, Yegor Alekseitch," Nikodim Alexandritch observed, timidly and politely. "What?
"Again thunder and lightning a hurricane!" said Nikodim Fomitch to Ilya Petrovitch in a civil and friendly tone. "You are aroused again, you are fuming again! I heard it on the stairs!" "Well, what then!" Ilya Petrovitch drawled with gentlemanly nonchalance; and he walked with some papers to another table, with a jaunty swing of his shoulders at each step.
Five soldiers, carrying rifles, met him and saluted him. On the right side of the boulevard the wife of a local official was walking along the pavement with her son, a schoolboy. "Good-morning, Marya Konstantinovna," Samoylenko shouted to her with a pleasant smile. "Have you been to bathe? Ha, ha, ha! . . . My respects to Nikodim Alexandritch!"
Savely undressed slowly, clambered over his wife, and lay down next to the wall. "To-morrow I'll let Father Nikodim know what sort of wife you are!" he muttered, curling himself up. Raissa turned her face to him and her eyes gleamed. "The job's enough for you, and you can look for a wife in the forest, blast you!" she said. "I am no wife for you, a clumsy lout, a slug-a-bed, God forgive me!"
Kirilin walked behind her with Nikodim Alexandritch, and kept humming in an undertone: "I don't al-low people to play with me! I don't al-low it." From the boulevard they went back to the pavilion and walked along the beach, and looked for a long time at the phosphorescence on the water. Von Koren began telling them why it looked phosphorescent.
"No matter," Ilya Petrovitch pronounced rather peculiarly. Nikodim Fomitch would have made some further protest, but glancing at the head clerk who was looking very hard at him, he did not speak. There was a sudden silence. It was strange. "Very well, then," concluded Ilya Petrovitch, "we will not detain you." Raskolnikov went out.
I am trembling with joy, I can find no words. My dear, I will give you away. . . . Nikodim Alexandritch and I have been so fond of you, you will allow us to give our blessing to your pure, lawful union. When, when do you think of being married?" "I haven't thought of it," said Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, freeing her hands. "That's impossible, my dear. You have thought of it, you have."
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