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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Confess or not, as you think best; for the time being, that is nothing to me. In either case, my conviction is arrived at." "If that is so, why have you called?" asked Raskolnikoff angrily. "I once more repeat the question I have put you: If you think me guilty, why not issue a warrant against me?" "What a question! But I will answer you categorically.
Show him, Alexander Gregorivitch. Complaints have been made about you! You don't pay your debts! You know how to fly the kite evidently!" Raskolnikoff did not listen, but greedily seized the paper. He read it through more than once, and could make nothing of it. "What is this?" he asked of the clerk. "It is a writ for recovery on a note of hand of yours. Please write," said the clerk.
"Confess or not, as you think best; for the time being, that is nothing to me. In either case, my conviction is arrived at." "If that is so, why have you called?" asked Raskolnikoff angrily. "I once more repeat the question I have put you: If you think me guilty, why not issue a warrant against me?" "What a question! But I will answer you categorically.
By degrees the sound of his heavy boots echoing on the stairs ceased to be heard. "Heavens! What shall I do?" Raskolnikoff drew back the bolt and opened the door a few inches.
He stopped, and turned to a young fellow, in a red shirt, who was gaping at the entrance to a flour shop. "A man trades here at this corner, with his wife, eh?" "Everyone trades here," replied the lad, scanning his questioner from head to foot. "What is he called?" "What he was christened." "But you belong to Zaraisk, don't you? To what Government?" The boy stared at Raskolnikoff.
Let us, if you like, attribute the whole of this to disease to a semidelirious condition by all means; but there is yet another point to be considered: he has committed a murder, and yet continues to look upon himself as a righteous man!" Raskolnikoff trembled in every limb. "Then, who who is it that has committed the murder?" he stammered forth, in jerky accents.
When Raskolnikoff recognized her he seemed struck with the greatest astonishment, although there was nothing strange about such a meeting. "You ought to decide yourself, Elizabeth Ivanovna," said the man. "Come to-morrow at seven o'clock." "To-morrow?" said Elizabeth slowly, as if undecided. "She is frightened of Alena Ivanovna," cried the wife, a brisk little woman.
But this second attempt was no more successful than the first, the cord encountered some obstacle and became fixed. Burning with impatience, Raskolnikoff brandished the hatchet, ready to strike the corpse and sever the confounded string at the same blow. However, he could not make up his mind to proceed with such brutality.
She then quitted them. Raskolnikoff also went away, and stayed to hear no more. His original amazement had changed gradually into a feeling of actual terror; a chill ran down his back.
The assistant district officer, a man adorned with red whiskers standing out on either side of his face, and with extremely small features, looked up impatiently at Raskolnikoff, whose filthy attire was by no means prepossessing. The latter returned his glance calmly and straight in the face, and in such a manner as to give the officer offense.
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