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Updated: June 3, 2025
And the unconcealed, persistent, nervous, and discourteous sarcasm of Porfiry seemed strange to Razumihin beside that quiet and mournful face.
Till then, at least, he was free and must do something for himself, for the danger was imminent. But how imminent? His position gradually became clear to him. Remembering, sketchily, the main outlines of his recent scene with Porfiry, he could not help shuddering again with horror. Of course, he did not yet know all Porfiry's aims, he could not see into all his calculations.
He did not want to meet anyone till then. Going up the stairs he noticed that Nastasya rushed from the samovar to watch him intently. "Can anyone have come to see me?" he wondered. He had a disgusted vision of Porfiry. But opening his door he saw Dounia. She was sitting alone, plunged in deep thought, and looked as though she had been waiting a long time. He stopped short in the doorway.
"The prisoner Nikolay has been brought," someone answered. "He is not wanted! Take him away! Let him wait! What's he doing here? How irregular!" cried Porfiry, rushing to the door. "But he..." began the same voice, and suddenly ceased. Two seconds, not more, were spent in actual struggle, then someone gave a violent shove, and then a man, very pale, strode into the room.
But that sanction of bloodshed by conscience is to my mind... more terrible than the official, legal sanction of bloodshed...." "You are quite right, it is more terrible," Porfiry agreed. "Yes, you must have exaggerated! There is some mistake, I shall read it. You can't think that! I shall read it." "All that is not in the article, there's only a hint of it," said Raskolnikov. "Yes, yes."
"I do," Raskolnikov answered firmly; as he said these words and during the whole preceding tirade he kept his eyes on one spot on the carpet. "And... and do you believe in God? Excuse my curiosity." "I do," repeated Raskolnikov, raising his eyes to Porfiry. "And... do you believe in Lazarus' rising from the dead?" "I... I do. Why do you ask all this?" "You believe it literally?" "Literally."
"And your little surprise, aren't you going to show it to me?" Raskolnikov said, sarcastically. "Why, his teeth are chattering as he asks, he-he! You are an ironical person! Come, till we meet!" "I believe we can say good-bye!" "That's in God's hands," muttered Porfiry, with an unnatural smile. As he walked through the office, Raskolnikov noticed that many people were looking at him.
You know their doctrine; crime is a protest against the abnormality of the social organisation and nothing more, and nothing more; no other causes admitted!..." "You are wrong there," cried Porfiry Petrovitch; he was noticeably animated and kept laughing as he looked at Razumihin, which made him more excited than ever. "Nothing is admitted," Razumihin interrupted with heat. "I am not wrong.
So you don't believe me? But still you do believe me, you believe a quarter; I'll soon make you believe the whole, because I have a sincere liking for you and genuinely wish you good." Raskolnikov's lips trembled. "Yes, I do," went on Porfiry, touching Raskolnikov's arm genially, "you must take care of your illness. Besides, your mother and sister are here now; you must think of them.
His indignation was such that he ceased trembling at once; he made ready to go in with a cold and arrogant bearing and vowed to himself to keep as silent as possible, to watch and listen and for once at least to control his overstrained nerves. At that moment he was summoned to Porfiry Petrovitch. He found Porfiry Petrovitch alone in his study.
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