Part 3

Chapter 1

22 min

Raskolnikov got up, and sat down on the sofa. He waved his hand weakly to Razumihin to cut short the flow of warm and incoherent consolations he was addressing to his mother and sister, took them both by the hand and for a minute or two gazed from one to the other without speaking. His mother was alarmed by his expression. It revealed an emotion agonisingly poignant, and at the same time something immovable, almost insane. Pulcheria Alexandrovna began to cry.

Raskolnikov got up and sat down on the sofa. Razumihin was offering his mother and sister a stream of warm but jumbled reassurances. Raskolnikov waved weakly at him to stop. He took both women by the hand and looked from one to the other for a minute or two without speaking. His expression alarmed his mother. It showed painfully intense emotion, but also something unyielding, almost insane. Pulcheria Alexandrovna began to cry.

Avdotya Romanovna was pale; her hand trembled in her brother’s.

Avdotya Romanovna was pale. Her hand trembled in her brother’s hand.

“Go home... with him,” he said in a broken voice, pointing to Razumihin, “good-bye till to-morrow; to-morrow everything... Is it long since you arrived?”

“Go home... with him,” he said in a broken voice, pointing to Razumihin. “Goodbye until tomorrow. Tomorrow everything... Did you arrive long ago?”

“This evening, Rodya,” answered Pulcheria Alexandrovna, “the train was awfully late. But, Rodya, nothing would induce me to leave you now! I will spend the night here, near you...”

“This evening, Rodya,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna replied, “the train was terribly late. But, Rodya, nothing could make me leave you now! I’ll spend the night here, near you...”

“Don’t torture me!” he said with a gesture of irritation.

“Don’t torture me!” he said, making an irritated gesture.

“I will stay with him,” cried Razumihin, “I won’t leave him for a moment. Bother all my visitors! Let them rage to their hearts’ content! My uncle is presiding there.”

“I’ll stay with him,” cried Razumihin. “I won’t leave him for a moment. To hell with all my visitors! Let them rage as much as they like! My uncle is in charge there.”

“How, how can I thank you!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna was beginning, once more pressing Razumihin’s hands, but Raskolnikov interrupted her again.

“How, how can I thank you!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, pressing Razumihin’s hands again. But Raskolnikov interrupted her again.

“I can’t have it! I can’t have it!” he repeated irritably, “don’t worry me! Enough, go away... I can’t stand it!”

“I can’t have it! I can’t have it!” he repeated irritably. “Don’t bother me! Enough, go away... I can’t stand it!”

“Come, mamma, come out of the room at least for a minute,” Dounia whispered in dismay; “we are distressing him, that’s evident.”

“Come on, mamma, come out of the room for at least a minute,” Dounia whispered in dismay. “We're upsetting him, that's clear.”

“Mayn’t I look at him after three years?” wept Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Can’t I look at him after three years?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna wept.

“Stay,” he stopped them again, “you keep interrupting me, and my ideas get muddled.... Have you seen Luzhin?”

“Wait,” he stopped them again. “You keep interrupting me, and I lose my train of thought.... Have you seen Luzhin?”

“No, Rodya, but he knows already of our arrival. We have heard, Rodya, that Pyotr Petrovitch was so kind as to visit you today,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna added somewhat timidly.

“No, Rodya, but he already knows we’ve arrived. We’ve heard, Rodya, that Pyotr Petrovitch was kind enough to visit you today,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna added somewhat timidly.

“Yes... he was so kind... Dounia, I promised Luzhin I’d throw him downstairs and told him to go to hell....”

“Yes... he was so kind... Dounia, I promised Luzhin I’d throw him down the stairs 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.

“Rodya, what are you saying? You can’t mean to tell us...” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began in alarm, but she stopped and looked at Dounia.

Avdotya Romanovna was looking attentively at her brother, waiting for what would come next. Both of them had heard of the quarrel from Nastasya, so far as she had succeeded in understanding and reporting it, and were in painful perplexity and suspense.

Avdotya Romanovna watched her brother closely, waiting to see what would happen next. Both of them had heard about the quarrel from Nastasya, as much as she had understood and could tell them. They were painfully confused and anxious.

“Dounia,” Raskolnikov continued with an effort, “I don’t want that marriage, so at the first opportunity to-morrow you must refuse Luzhin, so that we may never hear his name again.”

“Dounia,” Raskolnikov continued with an effort, “I don’t want you to marry Luzhin. So you must refuse him at the first opportunity tomorrow, so that we never hear his name again.”

“Good Heavens!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Oh my goodness!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Brother, think what you are saying!” Avdotya Romanovna began impetuously, but immediately checked herself. “You are not fit to talk now, perhaps; you are tired,” she added gently.

“Brother, think about what you’re saying!” Avdotya Romanovna burst out, but immediately stopped herself. “Perhaps you’re not well enough to talk right now. You’re tired,” she added gently.

“You think I am delirious? No... You are marrying Luzhin for my sake. But I won’t accept the sacrifice. And so write a letter before to-morrow, to refuse him... Let me read it in the morning and that will be the end of it!”

“You think I’m delirious? No... You’re marrying Luzhin for my sake. But I won’t accept that sacrifice. So write him a letter before tomorrow and tell him you won’t marry him... Let me read it in the morning, and that will be the end of it!”

“That I can’t do!” the girl cried, offended, “what right have you...”

“I can’t do that!” the girl cried, offended. “What right do you have...”

“Dounia, you are hasty, too, be quiet, to-morrow... Don’t you see...” the mother interposed in dismay. “Better come away!”

“Dounia, you’re rushing too. Be quiet. Tomorrow... Don’t you see...” her mother interrupted in dismay. “You’d better come away!”

“He is raving,” Razumihin cried tipsily, “or how would he dare! To-morrow all this nonsense will be over... to-day he certainly did drive him away. That was so. And Luzhin got angry, too.... He made speeches here, wanted to show off his learning and he went out crest-fallen....”

“He’s delirious,” Razumihin cried drunkenly. “How else would he dare! Tomorrow all this nonsense will be over... He certainly did drive him away today. That’s true. And Luzhin got angry too.... He made speeches here and tried to show off his learning, then left looking dejected....”

“Then it’s true?” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Good-bye till to-morrow, brother,” said Dounia compassionately—“let us go, mother... Good-bye, Rodya.”

“Goodbye until tomorrow, brother,” Dounia said gently. “Let’s go, mother... Goodbye, Rodya.”

“Do you hear, sister,” he repeated after them, making a last effort, “I am not delirious; this marriage is—an infamy. Let me act like a scoundrel, but you mustn’t... one is enough... and though I am a scoundrel, I wouldn’t own such a sister. It’s me or Luzhin! Go now....”

“Do you hear me, sister?” he called after them, making one last effort. “I’m not delirious. This marriage is disgraceful. I may act like a scoundrel, but you mustn’t... one is enough... and though I’m a scoundrel, I wouldn’t acknowledge a sister like that. It’s me or Luzhin! Go now....”

“But you’re out of your mind! Despot!” roared Razumihin; but Raskolnikov did not and perhaps could not answer. He lay down on the sofa, and turned to the wall, utterly exhausted. Avdotya Romanovna looked with interest at Razumihin; her black eyes flashed; Razumihin positively started at her glance.

“But you’re out of your mind! Tyrant!” roared Razumihin. But Raskolnikov did not answer, and perhaps could not. Completely exhausted, he lay down on the sofa and turned to face the wall. Avdotya Romanovna looked at Razumihin with interest. Her black eyes flashed, and Razumihin actually started at her glance.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna stood overwhelmed.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna stood there, overwhelmed.

“Nothing would induce me to go,” she whispered in despair to Razumihin. “I will stay somewhere here... escort Dounia home.”

“Nothing could make me leave,” she whispered to Razumihin in despair. “I’ll stay somewhere here... take Dounia home.”

“You’ll spoil everything,” Razumihin answered in the same whisper, losing patience—“come out on to the stairs, anyway. Nastasya, show a light! I assure you,” he went on in a half whisper on the stairs—“that he was almost beating the doctor and me this afternoon! Do you understand? The doctor himself! Even he gave way and left him, so as not to irritate him. I remained downstairs on guard, but he dressed at once and slipped off. And he will slip off again if you irritate him, at this time of night, and will do himself some mischief....”

“You’ll ruin everything,” Razumihin whispered back, losing patience. “At least come out onto the stairs. Nastasya, bring a light! I’m telling you,” he continued in a half whisper on the stairs, “he nearly beat up the doctor and me this afternoon! Do you understand? The doctor himself! Even he gave up and left him alone, so as not to upset him. I stayed downstairs to keep watch, but he got dressed at once and slipped away. And he’ll slip away again if you upset him, even at this hour of the night. He’ll end up hurting himself....”

“What are you saying?”

“And Avdotya Romanovna can’t possibly be left in those lodgings without you. Just think where you are staying! That blackguard Pyotr Petrovitch couldn’t find you better lodgings... But you know I’ve had a little to drink, and that’s what makes me... swear; don’t mind it....”

“And Avdotya Romanovna can’t possibly stay in those rooms without you. Just think where you’re staying! That scoundrel Pyotr Petrovitch couldn’t find you better rooms... But you know I’ve had a little to drink, and that’s why I... swear. Don’t mind it....”

“But I’ll go to the landlady here,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna insisted, “I’ll beseech her to find some corner for Dounia and me for the night. I can’t leave him like that, I cannot!”

“But I’ll go to the landlady here,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna insisted. “I’ll beg her to find a place for Dounia and me to sleep tonight. I can’t leave him like that. I can’t!”

This conversation took place on the landing just before the landlady’s door. Nastasya lighted them from a step below. Razumihin was in extraordinary excitement. Half an hour earlier, while he was bringing Raskolnikov home, he had indeed talked too freely, but he was aware of it himself, and his head was clear in spite of the vast quantities he had imbibed. Now he was in a state bordering on ecstasy, and all that he had drunk seemed to fly to his head with redoubled effect. He stood with the two ladies, seizing both by their hands, persuading them, and giving them reasons with astonishing plainness of speech, and at almost every word he uttered, probably to emphasise his arguments, he squeezed their hands painfully as in a vise. He stared at Avdotya Romanovna without the least regard for good manners. They sometimes pulled their hands out of his huge bony paws, but far from noticing what was the matter, he drew them all the closer to him. If they’d told him to jump head foremost from the staircase, he would have done it without thought or hesitation in their service. Though Pulcheria Alexandrovna felt that the young man was really too eccentric and pinched her hand too much, in her anxiety over her Rodya she looked on his presence as providential, and was unwilling to notice all his peculiarities. But though Avdotya Romanovna shared her anxiety, and was not of timorous disposition, she could not see the glowing light in his eyes without wonder and almost alarm. It was only the unbounded confidence inspired by Nastasya’s account of her brother’s queer friend, which prevented her from trying to run away from him, and to persuade her mother to do the same. She realised, too, that even running away was perhaps impossible now. Ten minutes later, however, she was considerably reassured; it was characteristic of Razumihin that he showed his true nature at once, whatever mood he might be in, so that people quickly saw the sort of man they had to deal with.

The conversation took place on the landing, just outside the landlady’s door. Nastasya stood one step below, lighting their way. Razumihin was extraordinarily excited. Half an hour earlier, while bringing Raskolnikov home, he had talked too freely. But he knew it, and his head was clear despite the enormous amount he had drunk. Now he was almost ecstatic, and everything he had drunk seemed to go to his head with twice the effect. He stood with the two women, gripping both their hands as he tried to persuade them. He gave his reasons with astonishing frankness. Almost every time he spoke, he squeezed their hands painfully, as if in a vise, probably to emphasize his arguments. He stared at Avdotya Romanovna without the slightest concern for manners. Sometimes the women pulled their hands out of his huge, bony paws. But he did not notice what was wrong and pulled them even closer. If they had told him to jump headfirst from the staircase, he would have done it for them without hesitation. Pulcheria Alexandrovna felt that the young man was far too eccentric and squeezed her hand too hard. But she was so worried about her Rodya that she saw Razumihin’s presence as a blessing. She was unwilling to notice all his peculiarities. Avdotya Romanovna shared her anxiety, and she was not easily frightened. Even so, she could not look at the glow in his eyes without surprise and almost alarm. Nastasya’s account of her brother’s strange friend had given her complete confidence in him. Only that kept her from trying to run away and persuading her mother to do the same. She also realized that running away might now be impossible. Ten minutes later, however, she felt much more reassured. Whatever his mood, Razumihin always revealed his true nature at once. People therefore quickly saw what sort of man they were dealing with.

“You can’t go to the landlady, that’s perfect nonsense!” he cried. “If you stay, though you are his mother, you’ll drive him to a frenzy, and then goodness knows what will happen! Listen, I’ll tell you what I’ll do: Nastasya will stay with him now, and I’ll conduct you both home, you can’t be in the streets alone; Petersburg is an awful place in that way.... But no matter! Then I’ll run straight back here and a quarter of an hour later, on my word of honour, I’ll bring you news how he is, whether he is asleep, and all that. Then, listen! Then I’ll run home in a twinkling—I’ve a lot of friends there, all drunk—I’ll fetch Zossimov—that’s the doctor who is looking after him, he is there, too, but he is not drunk; he is not drunk, he is never drunk! I’ll drag him to Rodya, and then to you, so that you’ll get two reports in the hour—from the doctor, you understand, from the doctor himself, that’s a very different thing from my account of him! If there’s anything wrong, I swear I’ll bring you here myself, but, if it’s all right, you go to bed. And I’ll spend the night here, in the passage, he won’t hear me, and I’ll tell Zossimov to sleep at the landlady’s, to be at hand. Which is better for him: you or the doctor? So come home then! But the landlady is out of the question; it’s all right for me, but it’s out of the question for you: she wouldn’t take you, for she’s... for she’s a fool... She’d be jealous on my account of Avdotya Romanovna and of you, too, if you want to know... of Avdotya Romanovna certainly. She is an absolutely, absolutely unaccountable character! But I am a fool, too!... No matter! Come along! Do you trust me? Come, do you trust me or not?”

“You can’t go to the landlady. That’s complete nonsense!” he cried. “If you stay, even though you’re his mother, you’ll drive him into a frenzy. Then goodness knows what will happen! Listen, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Nastasya will stay with him now, and I’ll take you both home. You can’t be out in the streets alone. Petersburg is an awful place for that.... But never mind! Then I’ll run straight back here. Fifteen minutes later, I give you my word, I’ll bring you news of how he is, whether he’s asleep, and everything else. “Then, listen! I’ll run home in a flash. I have a lot of friends there, all drunk. I’ll fetch Zossimov. He’s the doctor looking after him, and he’s there too. But he isn’t drunk. He isn’t drunk, he’s never drunk! I’ll drag him to Rodya, and then to you. So you’ll get two reports in an hour. The second will be from the doctor, you understand, from the doctor himself. That’s very different from my account of him! “If anything is wrong, I swear I’ll bring you here myself. But if everything is all right, you should go to bed. I’ll spend the night here in the hallway. He won’t hear me. And I’ll tell Zossimov to sleep at the landlady’s, so he’ll be nearby. Which is better for him, you or the doctor? So come home, then! “But the landlady is out of the question. It’s all right for me to stay with her, but not for you. She wouldn’t take you in, because she’s... because she’s a fool... If you want to know, she’d be jealous of Avdotya Romanovna and of you too, because of me... Certainly of Avdotya Romanovna. She’s a completely, completely unpredictable person! But I’m a fool too!... Never mind! Come along! Do you trust me? Come on, 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?”

“Let’s go, Mother,” said Avdotya Romanovna. “He’ll certainly do what he promised. He’s already saved Rodya. And if the doctor really will agree to spend the night here, what could be better?”

“You see, you... you... understand me, because you are an angel!” Razumihin cried in an ecstasy, “let us go! Nastasya! Fly upstairs and sit with him with a light; I’ll come in a quarter of an hour.”

“You see, you... you... understand me because you are an angel!” Razumihin cried ecstatically. “Let’s go! Nastasya! Hurry upstairs and sit with him. Take a light with you. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Though Pulcheria Alexandrovna was not perfectly convinced, she made no further resistance. Razumihin gave an arm to each and drew them down the stairs. He still made her uneasy, as though he was competent and good-natured, was he capable of carrying out his promise? He seemed in such a condition....

Although Pulcheria Alexandrovna was not entirely convinced, she did not argue any further. Razumihin gave each of them an arm and led them down the stairs. He still made her uneasy. Although he was capable and good-natured, could he keep his promise? He seemed to be in such a state....

“Ah, I see you think I am in such a condition!” Razumihin broke in upon her thoughts, guessing them, as he strolled along the pavement with huge steps, so that the two ladies could hardly keep up with him, a fact he did not observe, however. “Nonsense! That is... I am drunk like a fool, but that’s not it; I am not drunk from wine. It’s seeing you has turned my head... But don’t mind me! Don’t take any notice: I am talking nonsense, I am not worthy of you.... I am utterly unworthy of you! The minute I’ve taken you home, I’ll pour a couple of pailfuls of water over my head in the gutter here, and then I shall be all right.... If only you knew how I love you both! Don’t laugh, and don’t be angry! You may be angry with anyone, but not with me! I am his friend, and therefore I am your friend, too. I want to be... I had a presentiment... Last year there was a moment... though it wasn’t a presentiment really, for you seem to have fallen from heaven. And I expect I shan’t sleep all night... Zossimov was afraid a little time ago that he would go mad... that’s why he mustn’t be irritated.”

“Ah, I see you think I’m in that kind of state!” Razumihin interrupted her thoughts, guessing what she was thinking. He strode along the sidewalk with such huge steps that the two women could hardly keep up. He didn’t notice, though. “Nonsense! I mean, I’m drunk as a fool, but that’s not why. It isn’t wine that’s made me drunk. Seeing you has turned my head... But don’t mind me! Don’t pay any attention. I’m talking nonsense. I’m not worthy of you... I’m utterly unworthy of you! As soon as I’ve taken you home, I’ll pour a couple of buckets of water over my head in the gutter here. Then I’ll be all right... If only you knew how much I love you both! Don’t laugh, and don’t be angry! You can be angry with anyone, but not with me! I’m his friend, so I’m your friend too. I want to be... I had a feeling... Last year there was a moment... Though it wasn’t really a feeling, because you seem to have fallen from heaven. And I expect I won’t sleep all night... A little while ago, Zossimov was afraid he would go mad... That’s why he mustn’t be upset.”

“What do you say?” cried the mother.

“What do you say?” the mother cried.

“Did the doctor really say that?” asked Avdotya Romanovna, alarmed.

“Did the doctor really say that?” Avdotya Romanovna asked, alarmed.

“Yes, but it’s not so, not a bit of it. He gave him some medicine, a powder, I saw it, and then your coming here.... Ah! It would have been better if you had come to-morrow. It’s a good thing we went away. And in an hour Zossimov himself will report to you about everything. He is not drunk! And I shan’t be drunk.... And what made me get so tight? Because they got me into an argument, damn them! I’ve sworn never to argue! They talk such trash! I almost came to blows! I’ve left my uncle to preside. Would you believe, they insist on complete absence of individualism and that’s just what they relish! Not to be themselves, to be as unlike themselves as they can. That’s what they regard as the highest point of progress. If only their nonsense were their own, but as it is...”

“Yes, but that’s not true, not at all. He gave him some medicine, a powder. I saw it. And then you came here.... Ah! It would have been better if you’d come tomorrow. It’s a good thing we left. In an hour, Zossimov himself will tell you everything. He’s not drunk! And I won’t get drunk.... What made me get so drunk? They dragged me into an argument, damn them! I’ve sworn never to argue! They talk such nonsense! I almost got into a fight! I left my uncle in charge. Would you believe it? They insist on having no individuality at all, and that’s just what they love! Not being themselves, being as unlike themselves as possible. That’s what they see as the height of progress. If only the nonsense were their own, but as it is...”

“Listen!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna interrupted timidly, but it only added fuel to the flames.

“Listen!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna interrupted timidly, but her interruption only made things worse.

“What do you think?” shouted Razumihin, louder than ever, “you think I am attacking them for talking nonsense? Not a bit! I like them to talk nonsense. That’s man’s one privilege over all creation. Through error you come to the truth! I am a man because I err! You never reach any truth without making fourteen mistakes and very likely a hundred and fourteen. And a fine thing, too, in its way; but we can’t even make mistakes on our own account! Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one’s own way is better than to go right in someone else’s. In the first case you are a man, in the second you’re no better than a bird. Truth won’t escape you, but life can be cramped. There have been examples. And what are we doing now? In science, development, thought, invention, ideals, aims, liberalism, judgment, experience and everything, everything, everything, we are still in the preparatory class at school. We prefer to live on other people’s ideas, it’s what we are used to! Am I right, am I right?” cried Razumihin, pressing and shaking the two ladies’ hands.

“What do you think?” shouted Razumihin, louder than ever. “Do you think I’m attacking them for talking nonsense? Not at all! I like hearing them talk nonsense. That’s humanity’s one privilege over all the rest of creation. You reach the truth through mistakes! I’m human because I make mistakes! You never reach any truth without making fourteen mistakes, and very likely a hundred and fourteen. And that’s a fine thing in its own way. But we can’t even make our own mistakes! Talk nonsense, but make it your own nonsense, and I’ll kiss you for it. It’s better to go wrong in your own way than to be right in someone else’s. In the first case, you’re human. In the second, you’re no better than a bird. The truth won’t escape you, but life can be cramped. There have been examples of that. And what are we doing now? In science, development, thought, invention, ideals, aims, liberalism, judgment, experience and everything, everything, everything, we’re still in the first class at school. We prefer to live on other people’s ideas. That’s what we’re used to! Am I right, am I right?” cried Razumihin, pressing and shaking the two ladies’ hands.

“Oh, mercy, I do not know,” cried poor Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Oh, goodness, I don’t know,” cried poor Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Yes, yes... though I don’t agree with you in everything,” added Avdotya Romanovna earnestly and at once uttered a cry, for he squeezed her hand so painfully.

“Yes, yes... though I don’t agree with you on everything,” Avdotya Romanovna added earnestly. She immediately cried out because he squeezed her hand so painfully.

“Yes, you say yes... well after that you... you...” he cried in a transport, “you are a fount of goodness, purity, sense... and perfection. Give me your hand... you give me yours, too! I want to kiss your hands here at once, on my knees...” and he fell on his knees on the pavement, fortunately at that time deserted.

“Yes, you say yes... well, after that you... you...” he cried, overcome with excitement, “you are a fountain of goodness, purity, good sense... and perfection. Give me your hand... you give me yours, too! I want to get on my knees and kiss your hands right here, right now...” He fell on his knees on the pavement. Fortunately, it was deserted at the time.

“Leave off, I entreat you, what are you doing?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna cried, greatly distressed.

“Please stop, what are you doing?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna cried, deeply distressed.

“Get up, get up!” said Dounia laughing, though she, too, was upset.

“Get up, get up!” Dounia said, laughing, though she was upset too.

“Not for anything till you let me kiss your hands! That’s it! Enough! I get up and we’ll go on! I am a luckless fool, I am unworthy of you and drunk... and I am ashamed.... I am not worthy to love you, but to do homage to you is the duty of every man who is not a perfect beast! And I’ve done homage.... Here are your lodgings, and for that alone Rodya was right in driving your Pyotr Petrovitch away.... How dare he! how dare he put you in such lodgings! It’s a scandal! Do you know the sort of people they take in here? And you his betrothed! You are his betrothed? Yes? Well, then, I tell you, your fiancé is a scoundrel.”

“Not until you let me kiss your hands! That’s it! Enough! I’ll get up and we’ll go on! I’m an unlucky fool. I don’t deserve you, and I’m drunk... and I’m ashamed.... I’m not worthy of loving you. But every man who isn’t a complete beast has a duty to honor you! And I’ve honored you.... Here are your rooms. And for that alone, Rodya was right to send your Pyotr Petrovitch away.... How dare he! How dare he put you in rooms like these! It’s a scandal! Do you know what sort of people they take in here? And you’re the woman he’s engaged to! You are engaged to him, aren’t you? Yes? Well, then, I tell you, your fiancé is a scoundrel.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Razumihin, you are forgetting...” Pulcheria Alexandrovna was beginning.

“Excuse me, Mr. Razumihin, you’re forgetting...” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began.

“Yes, yes, you are right, I did forget myself, I am ashamed of it,” Razumihin made haste to apologise. “But... but you can’t be angry with me for speaking so! For I speak sincerely and not because... hm, hm! That would be disgraceful; in fact not because I’m in... hm! Well, anyway, I won’t say why, I daren’t.... But we all saw to-day when he came in that that man is not of our sort. Not because he had his hair curled at the barber’s, not because he was in such a hurry to show his wit, but because he is a spy, a speculator, because he is a skin-flint and a buffoon. That’s evident. Do you think him clever? No, he is a fool, a fool. And is he a match for you? Good heavens! Do you see, ladies?” he stopped suddenly on the way upstairs to their rooms, “though all my friends there are drunk, yet they are all honest, and though we do talk a lot of trash, and I do, too, yet we shall talk our way to the truth at last, for we are on the right path, while Pyotr Petrovitch... is not on the right path. Though I’ve been calling them all sorts of names just now, I do respect them all... though I don’t respect Zametov, I like him, for he is a puppy, and that bullock Zossimov, because he is an honest man and knows his work. But enough, it’s all said and forgiven. Is it forgiven? Well, then, let’s go on. I know this corridor, I’ve been here, there was a scandal here at Number 3.... Where are you here? Which number? eight? Well, lock yourselves in for the night, then. Don’t let anybody in. In a quarter of an hour I’ll come back with news, and half an hour later I’ll bring Zossimov, you’ll see! Good-bye, I’ll run.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. I lost control of myself, and I’m ashamed of it,” Razumihin hurried to apologize. “But... but you can’t be angry with me for speaking that way! I mean what I say, and it’s not because... hm, hm! That would be disgraceful. In fact, it’s not because I’m in... hm! Well, anyway, I won’t say why. I don’t dare.... But we all saw today, when he came in, that he’s not one of us. It’s not because he had his hair curled at the barber’s. It’s not because he was so eager to show off his wit. It’s because he’s a spy, a speculator, a miser, and a buffoon. That’s obvious. Do you think he’s clever? No, he’s a fool, a fool. And is he a match for you? Good heavens! “Do you see, ladies?” He stopped suddenly on the stairs leading to their rooms. “All my friends there are drunk, but they’re all honest. And although we talk a lot of nonsense, myself included, we’ll talk our way to the truth eventually. We’re on the right path, while Pyotr Petrovitch... is not on the right path. I’ve just been calling them all sorts of names, but I do respect them all... though I don’t respect Zametov. I like him because he’s a puppy. And I like that bullock Zossimov because he’s an honest man and knows his work. “But enough. It’s all been said and forgiven. Is it forgiven? Well, then, let’s go on. I know this corridor. I’ve been here before. There was a scandal here at Number 3.... Where are you staying? Which number? Eight? Well, lock yourselves in for the night, then. Don’t let anybody in. I’ll come back with news in fifteen minutes. Half an hour after that, I’ll bring Zossimov, you’ll see! Goodbye, I’ll run.”

“Good heavens, Dounia, what is going to happen?” said Pulcheria Alexandrovna, addressing her daughter with anxiety and dismay.

“Good heavens, Dounia, what’s going to happen?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked her daughter, anxious and dismayed.

“Don’t worry yourself, mother,” said Dounia, taking off her hat and cape. “God has sent this gentleman to our aid, though he has come from a drinking party. We can depend on him, I assure you. And all that he has done for Rodya....”

“Don’t worry, mother,” said Dounia, taking off her hat and cape. “God has sent this gentleman to help us, though he has come from a drinking party. We can count on him, I assure you. And all he has done for Rodya....”

“Ah, Dounia, goodness knows whether he will come! How could I bring myself to leave Rodya?... And how different, how different I had fancied our meeting! How sullen he was, as though not pleased to see us....”

“Ah, Dounia, who knows if he will come! How could I bring myself to leave Rodya?... And I imagined our meeting so differently, so differently! He was so sullen, as if he wasn’t pleased to see us....”

Tears came into her eyes.

“No, it’s not that, mother. You didn’t see, you were crying all the time. He is quite unhinged by serious illness—that’s the reason.”

“No, that’s not it, mother. You didn’t see because you were crying all the time. His serious illness has completely unhinged him. That’s the reason.”

“Ah, that illness! What will happen, what will happen? And how he talked to you, Dounia!” said the mother, looking timidly at her daughter, trying to read her thoughts and, already half consoled by Dounia’s standing up for her brother, which meant that she had already forgiven him. “I am sure he will think better of it to-morrow,” she added, probing her further.

“Oh, that illness! What will happen, what will happen? And the way he spoke to you, Dounia!” the mother said, looking timidly at her daughter. She tried to read Dounia’s thoughts. She was already partly comforted that Dounia had stood up for her brother, which meant she had forgiven him. “I’m sure he’ll change his mind tomorrow,” she added, trying to find out more of what Dounia thought.

“And I am sure that he will say the same to-morrow... about that,” Avdotya Romanovna said finally. And, of course, there was no going beyond that, for this was a point which Pulcheria Alexandrovna was afraid to discuss. Dounia went up and kissed her mother. The latter warmly embraced her without speaking. Then she sat down to wait anxiously for Razumihin’s return, timidly watching her daughter who walked up and down the room with her arms folded, lost in thought. This walking up and down when she was thinking was a habit of Avdotya Romanovna’s and the mother was always afraid to break in on her daughter’s mood at such moments.

“And I am sure he will say the same thing tomorrow... about that,” Avdotya Romanovna finally said. And, of course, there was nothing more to say, because Pulcheria Alexandrovna was afraid to discuss it. Dounia went over and kissed her mother. Her mother embraced her warmly without speaking. Then she sat down to wait anxiously for Razumihin to return. She watched her daughter timidly as Dounia paced the room, arms folded, lost in thought. Avdotya Romanovna had a habit of pacing when she was thinking. Her mother was always afraid to interrupt her at such moments.

Razumihin, of course, was ridiculous in his sudden drunken infatuation for Avdotya Romanovna. Yet apart from his eccentric condition, many people would have thought it justified if they had seen Avdotya Romanovna, especially at that moment when she was walking to and fro with folded arms, pensive and melancholy. Avdotya Romanovna was remarkably good-looking; she was tall, strikingly well-proportioned, strong and self-reliant—the latter quality was apparent in every gesture, though it did not in the least detract from the grace and softness of her movements. In face she resembled her brother, but she might be described as really beautiful. Her hair was dark brown, a little lighter than her brother’s; there was a proud light in her almost black eyes and yet at times a look of extraordinary kindness. She was pale, but it was a healthy pallor; her face was radiant with freshness and vigour. Her mouth was rather small; the full red lower lip projected a little as did her chin; it was the only irregularity in her beautiful face, but it gave it a peculiarly individual and almost haughty expression. Her face was always more serious and thoughtful than gay; but how well smiles, how well youthful, lighthearted, irresponsible, laughter suited her face! It was natural enough that a warm, open, simple-hearted, honest giant like Razumihin, who had never seen anyone like her and was not quite sober at the time, should lose his head immediately. Besides, as chance would have it, he saw Dounia for the first time transfigured by her love for her brother and her joy at meeting him. Afterwards he saw her lower lip quiver with indignation at her brother’s insolent, cruel and ungrateful words—and his fate was sealed.

Razumihin was, of course, ridiculous in his sudden drunken infatuation with Avdotya Romanovna. Yet setting aside his unusual state, many people would have thought his infatuation justified if they had seen her. This was especially true at that moment, as she paced with her arms folded, thoughtful and sad. Avdotya Romanovna was remarkably good-looking. She was tall, strikingly well-proportioned, strong, and self-reliant. Her self-reliance showed in every gesture, though it did nothing to lessen the grace and softness of her movements. Her face resembled her brother’s, but she could be called truly beautiful. Her hair was dark brown, a little lighter than her brother’s. Her almost black eyes had a proud light in them, yet at times they showed extraordinary kindness. She was pale, but her pallor was healthy. Her face glowed with freshness and energy. Her mouth was rather small, and her full red lower lip stuck out slightly, as did her chin. This was the only irregularity in her beautiful face, but it gave her a distinctly individual and almost haughty expression. Her face was usually more serious and thoughtful than cheerful. But how well smiles and youthful, carefree, irresponsible laughter suited her! It was natural enough that Razumihin should immediately lose his head. He was a warm, open, simple-hearted, honest giant who had never seen anyone like her, and he was not quite sober. Besides, as chance would have it, he first saw Dounia transformed by her love for her brother and her joy at meeting him. Later, he saw her lower lip tremble with indignation at her brother’s rude, cruel, and ungrateful words. That sealed his fate.

He had spoken the truth, moreover, when he blurted out in his drunken talk on the stairs that Praskovya Pavlovna, Raskolnikov’s eccentric landlady, would be jealous of Pulcheria Alexandrovna as well as of Avdotya Romanovna on his account. Although Pulcheria Alexandrovna was forty-three, her face still retained traces of her former beauty; she looked much younger than her age, indeed, which is almost always the case with women who retain serenity of spirit, sensitiveness and pure sincere warmth of heart to old age. We may add in parenthesis that to preserve all this is the only means of retaining beauty to old age. Her hair had begun to grow grey and thin, there had long been little crow’s foot wrinkles round her eyes, her cheeks were hollow and sunken from anxiety and grief, and yet it was a handsome face. She was Dounia over again, twenty years older, but without the projecting underlip. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was emotional, but not sentimental, timid and yielding, but only to a certain point. She could give way and accept a great deal even of what was contrary to her convictions, but there was a certain barrier fixed by honesty, principle and the deepest convictions which nothing would induce her to cross.

He had also told the truth in his drunken outburst on the stairs. Praskovya Pavlovna, Raskolnikov’s eccentric landlady, would be jealous of Pulcheria Alexandrovna as well as Avdotya Romanovna because of him. Although Pulcheria Alexandrovna was forty-three, her face still showed traces of her former beauty. Indeed, she looked much younger than her age. This is almost always true of women who remain serene, sensitive, and genuinely warmhearted into old age. We might add that keeping these qualities is the only way to remain beautiful in old age. Her hair had begun to turn gray and thin, and she had long had little crow’s feet around her eyes. Anxiety and grief had left her cheeks hollow and sunken, yet her face was still handsome. She looked just like Dounia, twenty years older, but without the protruding lower lip. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was emotional, but not sentimental. She was timid and yielding, but only up to a point. She could give way and accept a great deal, even things that went against her convictions. But honesty, principle, and her deepest convictions set a boundary that nothing could persuade her to cross.

Exactly twenty minutes after Razumihin’s departure, there came two subdued but hurried knocks at the door: he had come back.

Exactly twenty minutes after Razumihin left, there were two quiet but hurried knocks at the door. He had come back.

“I won’t come in, I haven’t time,” he hastened to say when the door was opened. “He sleeps like a top, soundly, quietly, and God grant he may sleep ten hours. Nastasya’s with him; I told her not to leave till I came. Now I am fetching Zossimov, he will report to you and then you’d better turn in; I can see you are too tired to do anything....”

“I won’t come in. I don’t have time,” he said quickly when the door opened. “He’s sleeping soundly and peacefully, and God grant that he sleeps for ten hours. Nastasya is with him. I told her not to leave until I came back. Now I’m going to fetch Zossimov. He’ll report to you, and then you’d better go to bed. I can see you’re too tired to do anything....”

And he ran off down the corridor.

And he ran off down the hallway.

“What a very competent and... devoted young man!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna exceedingly delighted.

“What a capable and... devoted young man!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna, absolutely delighted.

“He seems a splendid person!” Avdotya Romanovna replied with some warmth, resuming her walk up and down the room.

“He seems like a wonderful person!” Avdotya Romanovna replied warmly, resuming her walk up and down the room.

It was nearly an hour later when they heard footsteps in the corridor and another knock at the door. Both women waited this time completely relying on Razumihin’s promise; he actually had succeeded in bringing Zossimov. Zossimov had agreed at once to desert the drinking party to go to Raskolnikov’s, but he came reluctantly and with the greatest suspicion to see the ladies, mistrusting Razumihin in his exhilarated condition. But his vanity was at once reassured and flattered; he saw that they were really expecting him as an oracle. He stayed just ten minutes and succeeded in completely convincing and comforting Pulcheria Alexandrovna. He spoke with marked sympathy, but with the reserve and extreme seriousness of a young doctor at an important consultation. He did not utter a word on any other subject and did not display the slightest desire to enter into more personal relations with the two ladies. Remarking at his first entrance the dazzling beauty of Avdotya Romanovna, he endeavoured not to notice her at all during his visit and addressed himself solely to Pulcheria Alexandrovna. All this gave him extraordinary inward satisfaction. He declared that he thought the invalid at this moment going on very satisfactorily. According to his observations the patient’s illness was due partly to his unfortunate material surroundings during the last few months, but it had partly also a moral origin, “was, so to speak, the product of several material and moral influences, anxieties, apprehensions, troubles, certain ideas... and so on.” Noticing stealthily that Avdotya Romanovna was following his words with close attention, Zossimov allowed himself to enlarge on this theme. On Pulcheria Alexandrovna’s anxiously and timidly inquiring as to “some suspicion of insanity,” he replied with a composed and candid smile that his words had been exaggerated; that certainly the patient had some fixed idea, something approaching a monomania—he, Zossimov, was now particularly studying this interesting branch of medicine—but that it must be recollected that until to-day the patient had been in delirium and... and that no doubt the presence of his family would have a favourable effect on his recovery and distract his mind, “if only all fresh shocks can be avoided,” he added significantly. Then he got up, took leave with an impressive and affable bow, while blessings, warm gratitude, and entreaties were showered upon him, and Avdotya Romanovna spontaneously offered her hand to him. He went out exceedingly pleased with his visit and still more so with himself.

Nearly an hour later, they heard footsteps in the corridor and another knock at the door. This time, both women waited, trusting completely in Razumihin’s promise. He had indeed managed to bring Zossimov. Zossimov had agreed at once to leave the drinking party and go to Raskolnikov’s. But he came reluctantly and with great suspicion to see the ladies. He did not trust Razumihin in his excited state. His vanity was immediately reassured and flattered, however, when he saw that they really expected him to speak like an oracle. He stayed only ten minutes and completely convinced and comforted Pulcheria Alexandrovna. He spoke with obvious sympathy, but also with the restraint and extreme seriousness of a young doctor at an important consultation. He said nothing about any other subject and showed no desire to become better acquainted with the two ladies. When he first entered, he noticed Avdotya Romanovna’s dazzling beauty. But during his visit he tried not to notice her at all and spoke only to Pulcheria Alexandrovna. All this gave him extraordinary private satisfaction. He declared that he thought the patient was doing very well at the moment. In his view, the illness was partly due to the patient’s unfortunate living conditions over the past few months. But it also had a psychological cause. It “was, so to speak, the product of several physical and psychological influences, anxieties, fears, troubles, certain ideas... and so on.” Zossimov stole a glance at Avdotya Romanovna and saw that she was listening closely. He allowed himself to expand on the subject. Pulcheria Alexandrovna then asked anxiously and timidly about “some suspicion of insanity.” With a calm, candid smile, he replied that his words had been exaggerated. The patient certainly had a fixed idea, something approaching an obsession. Zossimov himself was now studying this interesting branch of medicine with particular attention. But they should remember that the patient had been delirious until that day. And... and there was no doubt that his family’s presence would help his recovery and take his mind off his troubles, “if only all fresh shocks can be avoided,” he added significantly. Then he rose and said goodbye with an impressive and gracious bow. The women showered him with blessings, warm thanks, and pleas, and Avdotya Romanovna spontaneously offered him her hand. He left exceedingly pleased with his visit and even more pleased with himself.

“We’ll talk to-morrow; go to bed at once!” Razumihin said in conclusion, following Zossimov out. “I’ll be with you to-morrow morning as early as possible with my report.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow. Go to bed right now!” Razumihin said as he followed Zossimov out. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning as early as possible with my report.”

“That’s a fetching little girl, Avdotya Romanovna,” remarked Zossimov, almost licking his lips as they both came out into the street.

“Avdotya Romanovna is a pretty little thing,” Zossimov said, almost licking his lips as they both came out into the street.

“Fetching? You said fetching?” roared Razumihin and he flew at Zossimov and seized him by the throat. “If you ever dare.... Do you understand? Do you understand?” he shouted, shaking him by the collar and squeezing him against the wall. “Do you hear?”

“Pretty? You said pretty?” Razumihin roared. He lunged at Zossimov and grabbed him by the throat. “If you ever dare.... Do you understand? Do you understand?” he shouted, shaking him by the collar and pressing him against the wall. “Do you hear?”

“Let me go, you drunken devil,” said Zossimov, struggling and when he had let him go, he stared at him and went off into a sudden guffaw. Razumihin stood facing him in gloomy and earnest reflection.

“Let me go, you drunken devil,” said Zossimov, struggling. When Razumihin let him go, Zossimov stared at him and suddenly burst out laughing. Razumihin stood facing him, deep in gloomy, serious thought.

“Of course, I am an ass,” he observed, sombre as a storm cloud, “but still... you are another.”

“Of course, I’m an idiot,” he said, looking as dark as a storm cloud, “but still... you’re one too.”

“No, brother, not at all such another. I am not dreaming of any folly.”

“No, brother, not at all like that. I’m not dreaming of doing anything foolish.”

They walked along in silence and only when they were close to Raskolnikov’s lodgings, Razumihin broke the silence in considerable anxiety.

They walked in silence. Only when they were close to Raskolnikov’s lodgings did Razumihin speak, clearly very anxious.

“Listen,” he said, “you’re a first-rate fellow, but among your other failings, you’re a loose fish, that I know, and a dirty one, too. You are a feeble, nervous wretch, and a mass of whims, you’re getting fat and lazy and can’t deny yourself anything—and I call that dirty because it leads one straight into the dirt. You’ve let yourself get so slack that I don’t know how it is you are still a good, even a devoted doctor. You—a doctor—sleep on a feather bed and get up at night to your patients! In another three or four years you won’t get up for your patients... But hang it all, that’s not the point!... You are going to spend to-night in the landlady’s flat here. (Hard work I’ve had to persuade her!) And I’ll be in the kitchen. So here’s a chance for you to get to know her better.... It’s not as you think! There’s not a trace of anything of the sort, brother...!”

“Listen,” he said, “you’re a great fellow, but you have your faults. I know you’re a bit of a scoundrel, and a filthy one too. You’re a weak, nervous wreck, full of whims. You’re getting fat and lazy, and you can’t deny yourself anything. I call that filthy because it leads you straight into filth. You’ve become so lazy that I don’t know how you’re still a good, even a devoted doctor. You’re a doctor, and you sleep on a feather bed and get up at night to see your patients! In another three or four years, you won’t get up for them... But damn it, that’s not the point!... You’re going to spend tonight here in the landlady’s apartment. (It took a lot of work to persuade her!) And I’ll be in the kitchen. So here’s a chance for you to get to know her better.... It’s not what you think! There’s nothing like that going on, brother...!”

“But I don’t think!”

“Here you have modesty, brother, silence, bashfulness, a savage virtue... and yet she’s sighing and melting like wax, simply melting! Save me from her, by all that’s unholy! She’s most prepossessing... I’ll repay you, I’ll do anything....”

“Here you have modesty, brother, silence, shyness, a fierce virtue... and yet she’s sighing and melting like wax, simply melting! Save me from her, by all that’s unholy! She’s very attractive... I’ll repay you, I’ll do anything....”

Zossimov laughed more violently than ever.

Zossimov laughed harder than ever.

“Well, you are smitten! But what am I to do with her?”

“Well, you’re in love! But what am I supposed to do with her?”

“It won’t be much trouble, I assure you. Talk any rot you like to her, as long as you sit by her and talk. You’re a doctor, too; try curing her of something. I swear you won’t regret it. She has a piano, and you know, I strum a little. I have a song there, a genuine Russian one: ‘I shed hot tears.’ She likes the genuine article—and well, it all began with that song; Now you’re a regular performer, a maître, a Rubinstein.... I assure you, you won’t regret it!”

“It won’t be much trouble, I promise. Talk about any nonsense you like, as long as you sit beside her and talk. You’re a doctor, too. Try curing her of something. I swear you won’t regret it. She has a piano, and you know I play a little. I have a song there, a genuine Russian one: ‘I shed hot tears.’ She likes the genuine article, and well, it all began with that song. Now you’re a real performer, a maître, a Rubinstein.... I promise you won’t regret it!”

“But have you made her some promise? Something signed? A promise of marriage, perhaps?”

“But have you made her a promise? Something in writing? A promise to marry her, perhaps?”

“Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of the kind! Besides she is not that sort at all.... Tchebarov tried that....”

“Nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing like that! Besides, she’s not that kind of person at all.... Tchebarov tried that....”

“Well then, drop her!”

“But I can’t drop her like that!”

“Why can’t you?”

“Well, I can’t, that’s all about it! There’s an element of attraction here, brother.”

“Well, I can’t, that’s all! There’s something appealing about it, brother.”

“Then why have you fascinated her?”

“I haven’t fascinated her; perhaps I was fascinated myself in my folly. But she won’t care a straw whether it’s you or I, so long as somebody sits beside her, sighing.... I can’t explain the position, brother... look here, you are good at mathematics, and working at it now... begin teaching her the integral calculus; upon my soul, I’m not joking, I’m in earnest, it’ll be just the same to her. She will gaze at you and sigh for a whole year together. I talked to her once for two days at a time about the Prussian House of Lords (for one must talk of something)—she just sighed and perspired! And you mustn’t talk of love—she’s bashful to hysterics—but just let her see you can’t tear yourself away—that’s enough. It’s fearfully comfortable; you’re quite at home, you can read, sit, lie about, write. You may even venture on a kiss, if you’re careful.”

“I haven’t fascinated her. Perhaps I was fascinated myself, like a fool. But she won’t care at all whether it’s you or me, as long as someone sits beside her, sighing.... I can’t explain how it works, brother... Look, you’re good at math, and you’re studying it now. Start teaching her integral calculus. I swear, I’m not joking. I mean it. It’ll be just the same to her. She’ll gaze at you and sigh for a whole year. Once I talked to her about the Prussian House of Lords for two days straight. One has to talk about something. She just sighed and sweated! And you mustn’t talk about love. She’s so shy she becomes hysterical. Just let her see you can’t tear yourself away. That’s enough. It’s wonderfully comfortable. You feel completely at home. You can read, sit, lie around, or write. You can even try a kiss, if you’re careful.”

“But what do I want with her?”

“Ach, I can’t make you understand! You see, you are made for each other! I have often been reminded of you!... You’ll come to it in the end! So does it matter whether it’s sooner or later? There’s the feather-bed element here, brother—ach! and not only that! There’s an attraction here—here you have the end of the world, an anchorage, a quiet haven, the navel of the earth, the three fishes that are the foundation of the world, the essence of pancakes, of savoury fish-pies, of the evening samovar, of soft sighs and warm shawls, and hot stoves to sleep on—as snug as though you were dead, and yet you’re alive—the advantages of both at once! Well, hang it, brother, what stuff I’m talking, it’s bedtime! Listen. I sometimes wake up at night; so I’ll go in and look at him. But there’s no need, it’s all right. Don’t you worry yourself, yet if you like, you might just look in once, too. But if you notice anything—delirium or fever—wake me at once. But there can’t be....”

“Oh, I can’t make you understand! You see, you’re made for each other! I’ve often been reminded of you! ... You’ll come to it in the end! So does it matter whether it’s sooner or later? There’s the featherbed side of it, brother, oh! And that’s not all! There’s an attraction here. Here you have the end of the world, an anchorage, a quiet harbor, the navel of the earth. You have the three fish that hold up the world, the essence of pancakes and savory fish pies. You have the evening samovar, soft sighs, warm shawls, and hot stoves to sleep on. You’re as snug as if you were dead, yet you’re alive. You have the advantages of both at once! Well, damn it, brother, what nonsense I’m talking. It’s bedtime! Listen. I sometimes wake up at night, so I’ll go in and check on him. But there’s no need. He’s all right. Don’t worry, but if you like, you could check on him once too. But if you notice anything, delirium or fever, wake me at once. But there can’t be anything....”