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Updated: May 15, 2025
I don't know. What is your opinion, pray? But do, I beg, remove your cap; one would really fancy that you wanted to be off, and that pains me. I, you must know, am so contented." Raskolnikoff laid his cap down. He did not, however, become more loquacious; and, with knit brows, listened to Porphyrius's idle chatter.
He held out his hands to me without shaking mine, withdrawing them before I could do so, thought Raskolnikoff mistrustfully. Both watched each other, but no sooner did their eyes meet than they both turned them aside with the rapidity of a flash of lightning. "I have called with this paper about the If you please. Is it correct, or must another form be drawn up?" "What, what paper? Oh, yes!
Raskolnikoff knew something of Alena Ivanovna's habits. He therefore placed his ear to the door. Had the circumstances amid which he was placed strangely developed his power of hearing, which, in general, is difficult to admit, or was the sound really easily perceptible? Anyhow, he suddenly became aware that a hand was being cautiously placed on the lock, and that a dress rustled against the door.
It is a most remarkable case!" "Indeed! In a completely raving state?" remarked Porphyrius, with the toss of the head peculiar to Russian rustics. "Absurd! Don't you believe a word of it! Besides, I need not urge you to that effect of course you are convinced," observed Raskolnikoff, beside himself with passion. But Porphyrius Petrovitch did not seem to hear these singular words.
"What for? Come, out you go then, if you won't explain yourself," suddenly shouted the porter, a huge fellow in a smock frock, with a large bunch of keys round his waist; and he caught Raskolnikoff by the shoulder and pitched him into the street. The latter lurched forward, but recovered himself, and, giving one look at the spectators, went quietly away.
Raskolnikoff allowed himself to sink on the chair that was offered him, but he could not take his eyes off Elia Petrovitch, whose face expressed a very unpleasant surprise. For a moment both men looked at one another in silence. Water was brought! "It was I " commenced Raskolnikoff. "Drink."
These last words were uttered in the anteroom, as Porphyrius very civilly led his visitors to the door. They were gloomy and morose on leaving the house, and had gone some distance before speaking. Raskolnikoff breathed like a man who had just been subjected to a severe trial.
Raskolnikoff snatched at his glass, put a piece of bread in his mouth, and then, after looking at Zametoff, seemingly recollected and roused himself. His face at once resumed its previous smile, and he continued to sip his tea. "What a number of rogues there are about," Zametoff said. "I read not long ago, in the Moscow papers, that they had captured a whole gang of forgers in that city.
"She is the same woman," continued Raskolnikoff, still in a whisper, and taking no notice of Zametoff's remark, "the very same woman you were talking about when I swooned in your office. You recollect you surely recollect?" "Recollect what?" said Zametoff, almost alarmed.
It was about nine o'clock as he stood in the Haymarket. All the dealers had closed their establishments or cleared away their goods and gone home. About this place, with its tattered population, its dirty and nauseous courtyards and numerous alleys, Raskolnikoff dearly loved to roam in his aimless wanderings. He attracted no notice there.
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