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Updated: August 14, 2024
And now she turned to him, her little face all aglow, holding out her arms.... "Accursed child!" Svidrigailov cried, raising his hand to strike her, but at that moment he woke up. He was in the same bed, still wrapped in the blanket. The candle had not been lighted, and daylight was streaming in at the windows. "I've had nightmare all night!"
"I am going to foreign parts, brother." "To foreign parts?" "To America." "America." Svidrigailov took out the revolver and cocked it. Achilles raised his eyebrows. "I say, this is not the place for such jokes!" "Why shouldn't it be the place?" "Because it isn't." "Well, brother, I don't mind that. It's a good place. When you are asked, you just say he was going, he said, to America."
Here, you, for instance, have come to me not only for a definite object, but for the sake of hearing something new. Isn't that so? Isn't that so?" persisted Svidrigailov with a sly smile. "Well, can't you fancy then that I, too, on my way here in the train was reckoning on you, on your telling me something new, and on my making some profit out of you! You see what rich men we are!"
"From some words you've dropped, I notice that you still have designs and of course evil ones on Dounia and mean to carry them out promptly." "What, have I dropped words like that?" Svidrigailov asked in naive dismay, taking not the slightest notice of the epithet bestowed on his designs. "Why, you are dropping them even now. Why are you so frightened? What are you so afraid of now?" "Me afraid?
"Well, after what you have said, I am fully convinced that you have come to Petersburg with designs on my sister," he said directly to Svidrigailov, in order to irritate him further. "Oh, nonsense," said Svidrigailov, seeming to rouse himself. "Why, I told you... besides your sister can't endure me." "Yes, I am certain that she can't, but that's not the point." "Are you so sure that she can't?"
She did not scream, but she fixed her eyes on her tormentor and watched every movement he made. Svidrigailov remained standing at the other end of the room facing her. He was positively composed, at least in appearance, but his face was pale as before. The mocking smile did not leave his face. "You spoke of outrage just now, Avdotya Romanovna. In that case you may be sure I've taken measures.
It was a long, blackened wooden building, and in spite of the late hour there were lights in the windows and signs of life within. He went in and asked a ragged fellow who met him in the corridor for a room. The latter, scanning Svidrigailov, pulled himself together and led him at once to a close and tiny room in the distance, at the end of the corridor, under the stairs.
She fancied he was signalling to beg her not to speak to her brother, but to come to him. That was what Dounia did. She stole by her brother and went up to Svidrigailov. "Let us make haste away," Svidrigailov whispered to her, "I don't want Rodion Romanovitch to know of our meeting.
One of the walls was cut short by the sloping ceiling, though the room was not an attic but just under the stairs. Svidrigailov set down the candle, sat down on the bed and sank into thought. But a strange persistent murmur which sometimes rose to a shout in the next room attracted his attention. The murmur had not ceased from the moment he entered the room.
Luzhin, she is taking money just the same, only from another man. Don't be angry, Rodion Romanovitch, think it over coolly and quietly." Svidrigailov himself was exceedingly cool and quiet as he was saying this. "I beg you to say no more," said Raskolnikov. "In any case this is unpardonable impertinence." "Not in the least.
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