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Updated: June 20, 2025
"But I have something to see to." "But surely you will have dinner together?" cried Razumihin, looking in surprise at Raskolnikov. "What do you mean?" "Yes, yes, I am coming... of course, of course! And you stay a minute. You do not want him just now, do you, mother? Or perhaps I am taking him from you?" "Oh, no, no. And will you, Dmitri Prokofitch, do us the favour of dining with us?"
Don't worry about her; I will set her mind at rest; but don't you try her too much come once at least; remember that she is your mother. Good-bye!" She turned abruptly and went towards the door. "Dounia!" Raskolnikov stopped her and went towards her. "That Razumihin, Dmitri Prokofitch, is a very good fellow." Dounia flushed slightly. "Well?" she asked, waiting a moment.
"Do you know, Dounia, when I dozed a little this morning I dreamed of Marfa Petrovna... she was all in white... she came up to me, took my hand, and shook her head at me, but so sternly as though she were blaming me.... Is that a good omen? Oh, dear me! You don't know, Dmitri Prokofitch, that Marfa Petrovna's dead!" "No, I didn't know; who is Marfa Petrovna?"
It was the same with Dmitri Prokofitch, who called here yesterday. I admit mine to be a caustic temperament, that mine is a horrid disposition, but that such a meaning could possibly be attributed to harmless remarks. He called here yesterday, when you had gone, and in the course of dinner he talked, talked. You had sent him, had you not? But do sit down, batuchka! do sit down, for heaven's sake!"
God knows what concerns and plans you may have, or what ideas you are hatching; so it's not for me to keep nudging your elbow, asking you what you are thinking about? But, my goodness! why am I running to and fro as though I were crazy...? I am reading your article in the magazine for the third time, Rodya. Dmitri Prokofitch brought it to me.
Without her support Pulcheria Alexandrovna obviously did not know what to do. At last, faltering and continually glancing at her daughter, she confessed that she was exceedingly worried by one circumstance. "You see, Dmitri Prokofitch," she began. "I'll be perfectly open with Dmitri Prokofitch, Dounia?" "Of course, mother," said Avdotya Romanovna emphatically.
"Don't be angry, brother; I've only come for one minute," said Dounia. Her face looked thoughtful but not stern. Her eyes were bright and soft. He saw that she too had come to him with love. "Brother, now I know all, all. Dmitri Prokofitch has explained and told me everything.
"She died suddenly; and only fancy..." "Afterwards, mamma," put in Dounia. "He doesn't know who Marfa Petrovna is." "Ah, you don't know? And I was thinking that you knew all about us. Forgive me, Dmitri Prokofitch, I don't know what I am thinking about these last few days. I look upon you really as a providence for us, and so I took it for granted that you knew all about us.
You'll bring back your illness again, my dear fellow," Porfiry Petrovitch cackled with friendly sympathy, though he still looked rather disconcerted. "Good heavens, you must take more care of yourself! Dmitri Prokofitch was here, came to see me yesterday I know, I know, I've a nasty, ironical temper, but what they made of it!... Good heavens, he came yesterday after you'd been.
'A meal would not come amiss, certainly, observed Bazarov, stretching, and he dropped on to a sofa. 'Yes, yes, let us have supper, supper directly. Nikolai Petrovitch with no apparent reason stamped his foot. 'And here just at the right moment comes Prokofitch.
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