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Updated: June 9, 2025
Forty-five copecks change in coppers. Will you take it? And so, Rodya, you are set up with a complete new rig-out, for your overcoat will serve, and even has a style of its own. That comes from getting one's clothes from Sharmer's! As for your socks and other things, I leave them to you; we've twenty-five roubles left. And as for Pashenka and paying for your lodging, don't you worry.
Do you trust me? Come, do you trust me or not?" "Let us go, mother," said Avdotya Romanovna, "he will certainly do what he has promised. He has saved Rodya already, and if the doctor really will consent to spend the night here, what could be better?" "You see, you... you... understand me, because you are an angel!" Razumihin cried in ecstasy, "let us go! Nastasya!
"It is as though they were afraid of me," Raskolnikov was thinking to himself, looking askance at his mother and sister. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was indeed growing more timid the longer she kept silent. "Yet in their absence I seemed to love them so much," flashed through his mind. "Do you know, Rodya, Marfa Petrovna is dead," Pulcheria Alexandrovna suddenly blurted out. "What Marfa Petrovna?"
She would sometimes begin to cry suddenly and was often ill and feverishly delirious. One morning she declared that by her reckoning Rodya ought soon to be home, that she remembered when he said good-bye to her he said that they must expect him back in nine months.
"What are you saying, Rodya?" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. She, too, was surprised. "Is he answering us as a duty?" Dounia wondered. "Is he being reconciled and asking forgiveness as though he were performing a rite or repeating a lesson?"
"To my thinking, you, with all your virtues, are not worth the little finger of that unfortunate girl at whom you throw stones." "Would you go so far then as to let her associate with your mother and sister?" "I have done so already, if you care to know. I made her sit down to-day with mother and Dounia." "Rodya!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Dounia crimsoned, Razumihin knitted his brows.
"Yes... he was so kind... Dounia, I promised Luzhin I'd throw him downstairs and told him to go to hell...." "Rodya, what are you saying! Surely, you don't mean to tell us..." Pulcheria Alexandrovna began in alarm, but she stopped, looking at Dounia. Avdotya Romanovna was looking attentively at her brother, waiting for what would come next.
Now I understand what it all means and so does Zametov.... Well, the fact is, Rodya... the point is... I am a little drunk now.... But that's... no matter... the point is that this idea... you understand? was just being hatched in their brains... you understand?
But here is the beer!" He moved back to his chair, pulled the soup and meat in front of him, and began eating as though he had not touched food for three days. "I must tell you, Rodya, I dine like this here every day now," he mumbled with his mouth full of beef, "and it's all Pashenka, your dear little landlady, who sees to that; she loves to do anything for me.
In any case, Dounia saw clearly that her mother was not in full possession of her faculties. It happened once or twice, however, that Pulcheria Alexandrovna gave such a turn to the conversation that it was impossible to answer her without mentioning where Rodya was, and on receiving unsatisfactory and suspicious answers she became at once gloomy and silent, and this mood lasted for a long time.
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