Chapter 1

The morning that followed the fateful interview with Dounia and her mother brought sobering influences to bear on Pyotr Petrovitch. Intensely unpleasant as it was, he was forced little by little to accept as a fact beyond recall what had seemed to him only the day before fantastic and incredible. The black snake of wounded vanity had been gnawing at his heart all night. When he got out of bed, Pyotr Petrovitch immediately looked in the looking-glass. He was afraid that he had jaundice. However his health seemed unimpaired so far, and looking at his noble, clear-skinned countenance which had grown fattish of late, Pyotr Petrovitch for an instant was positively comforted in the conviction that he would find another bride and, perhaps, even a better one. But coming back to the sense of his present position, he turned aside and spat vigorously, which excited a sarcastic smile in Andrey Semyonovitch Lebeziatnikov, the young friend with whom he was staying. That smile Pyotr Petrovitch noticed, and at once set it down against his young friend’s account. He had set down a good many points against him of late. His anger was redoubled when he reflected that he ought not to have told Andrey Semyonovitch about the result of yesterday’s interview. That was the second mistake he had made in temper, through impulsiveness and irritability.... Moreover, all that morning one unpleasantness followed another. He even found a hitch awaiting him in his legal case in the senate. He was particularly irritated by the owner of the flat which had been taken in view of his approaching marriage and was being redecorated at his own expense; the owner, a rich German tradesman, would not entertain the idea of breaking the contract which had just been signed and insisted on the full forfeit money, though Pyotr Petrovitch would be giving him back the flat practically redecorated. In the same way the upholsterers refused to return a single rouble of the instalment paid for the furniture purchased but not yet removed to the flat.

The morning after the fateful meeting with Dounia and her mother brought Pyotr Petrovitch back to his senses. However unpleasant it was, he gradually had to accept that what had seemed impossible yesterday was an irreversible fact. The black snake of wounded vanity had been gnawing at his heart all night. As soon as he got out of bed, Pyotr Petrovitch looked in the mirror. He was afraid he had jaundice. But his health seemed unimpaired so far. As he looked at his distinguished, clear-skinned face, which had grown rather plump lately, he felt reassured for a moment. He was sure he would find another bride, perhaps even a better one. But when he thought again about his present situation, he turned aside and spat vigorously. This brought a sarcastic smile to the face of Andrey Semyonovitch Lebeziatnikov, the young friend he was staying with. Pyotr Petrovitch noticed the smile and immediately added it to his list of grievances against his young friend. He had found quite a few things to hold against him lately. His anger doubled when he realized he should not have told Andrey Semyonovitch the result of yesterday’s meeting. That was the second mistake he had made in anger, through impulsiveness and irritability.... All that morning, moreover, one unpleasantness followed another. He even encountered a complication in his legal case before the senate. He was especially irritated by the owner of the apartment he had rented for his coming marriage. The apartment was being redecorated at his own expense. Its owner, a wealthy German tradesman, would not consider breaking the contract they had just signed. He insisted on the full penalty, although Pyotr Petrovitch would be giving him back an apartment that was practically redecorated. The upholsterers likewise refused to return a single rouble of the installment he had paid for furniture. He had bought it, but it had not yet been delivered to the apartment.

“Am I to get married simply for the sake of the furniture?” Pyotr Petrovitch ground his teeth and at the same time once more he had a gleam of desperate hope. “Can all that be really so irrevocably over? Is it no use to make another effort?” The thought of Dounia sent a voluptuous pang through his heart. He endured anguish at that moment, and if it had been possible to slay Raskolnikov instantly by wishing it, Pyotr Petrovitch would promptly have uttered the wish.

“Am I supposed to get married just for the furniture?” Pyotr Petrovitch ground his teeth, yet once again he felt a glimmer of desperate hope. “Can all of it really be over for good? Is there no point in trying again?” The thought of Dounia sent a delicious pang through his heart. He was in anguish at that moment. If he could have killed Raskolnikov instantly by wishing it, Pyotr Petrovitch would have done so without hesitation.

“It was my mistake, too, not to have given them money,” he thought, as he returned dejectedly to Lebeziatnikov’s room, “and why on earth was I such a Jew? It was false economy! I meant to keep them without a penny so that they should turn to me as their providence, and look at them! foo! If I’d spent some fifteen hundred roubles on them for the trousseau and presents, on knick-knacks, dressing-cases, jewellery, materials, and all that sort of trash from Knopp’s and the English shop, my position would have been better and... stronger! They could not have refused me so easily! They are the sort of people that would feel bound to return money and presents if they broke it off; and they would find it hard to do it! And their conscience would prick them: how can we dismiss a man who has hitherto been so generous and delicate?.... H’m! I’ve made a blunder.”

“It was a mistake not to give them money, too,” he thought as he returned dejectedly to Lebeziatnikov’s room. “Why on earth was I such a Jew? It was false economy! I meant to leave them without a penny so they would turn to me as their provider. And look at them! Bah! If I’d spent about fifteen hundred roubles on their wedding clothes and presents, my position would have been better and... stronger! I could have bought trinkets, dressing cases, jewellery, fabrics, and all that other trash from Knopp’s and the English shop. Then they couldn’t have refused me so easily! They’re the sort of people who would feel obliged to return the money and presents if they broke it off. And they would find that hard to do! Their consciences would trouble them, too. How could we dismiss a man who has been so generous and considerate until now?.... H’m! I’ve made a mistake.”

And grinding his teeth again, Pyotr Petrovitch called himself a fool—but not aloud, of course.

Grinding his teeth again, Pyotr Petrovitch called himself a fool. But not aloud, of course.

He returned home, twice as irritated and angry as before. The preparations for the funeral dinner at Katerina Ivanovna’s excited his curiosity as he passed. He had heard about it the day before; he fancied, indeed, that he had been invited, but absorbed in his own cares he had paid no attention. Inquiring of Madame Lippevechsel who was busy laying the table while Katerina Ivanovna was away at the cemetery, he heard that the entertainment was to be a great affair, that all the lodgers had been invited, among them some who had not known the dead man, that even Andrey Semyonovitch Lebeziatnikov was invited in spite of his previous quarrel with Katerina Ivanovna, that he, Pyotr Petrovitch, was not only invited, but was eagerly expected as he was the most important of the lodgers. Amalia Ivanovna herself had been invited with great ceremony in spite of the recent unpleasantness, and so she was very busy with preparations and was taking a positive pleasure in them; she was moreover dressed up to the nines, all in new black silk, and she was proud of it. All this suggested an idea to Pyotr Petrovitch and he went into his room, or rather Lebeziatnikov’s, somewhat thoughtful. He had learnt that Raskolnikov was to be one of the guests.

He returned home twice as irritated and angry as before. As he passed Katerina Ivanovna’s rooms, the preparations for the funeral dinner caught his attention. He had heard about it the day before. He even thought he had been invited, but he had been too absorbed in his own worries to pay attention. Katerina Ivanovna was away at the cemetery, and Madame Lippevechsel was busy setting the table. He asked her about the dinner and learned that it was to be a grand affair. All the lodgers had been invited, including some who had not known the dead man. Even Andrey Semyonovitch Lebeziatnikov had been invited, despite his earlier quarrel with Katerina Ivanovna. He, Pyotr Petrovitch, was not only invited but eagerly expected, since he was the most important lodger. Amalia Ivanovna herself had been invited with great ceremony, despite the recent unpleasantness. So she was busy with the preparations and actually enjoying them. She was also dressed in her finest clothes, all in new black silk, and was proud of it. All this gave Pyotr Petrovitch an idea, and he went into his room, or rather Lebeziatnikov’s, deep in thought. He had learned that Raskolnikov was to be one of the guests.

Andrey Semyonovitch had been at home all the morning. The attitude of Pyotr Petrovitch to this gentleman was strange, though perhaps natural. Pyotr Petrovitch had despised and hated him from the day he came to stay with him and at the same time he seemed somewhat afraid of him. He had not come to stay with him on his arrival in Petersburg simply from parsimony, though that had been perhaps his chief object. He had heard of Andrey Semyonovitch, who had once been his ward, as a leading young progressive who was taking an important part in certain interesting circles, the doings of which were a legend in the provinces. It had impressed Pyotr Petrovitch. These powerful omniscient circles who despised everyone and showed everyone up had long inspired in him a peculiar but quite vague alarm. He had not, of course, been able to form even an approximate notion of what they meant. He, like everyone, had heard that there were, especially in Petersburg, progressives of some sort, nihilists and so on, and, like many people, he exaggerated and distorted the significance of those words to an absurd degree. What for many years past he had feared more than anything was being shown up and this was the chief ground for his continual uneasiness at the thought of transferring his business to Petersburg. He was afraid of this as little children are sometimes panic-stricken. Some years before, when he was just entering on his own career, he had come upon two cases in which rather important personages in the province, patrons of his, had been cruelly shown up. One instance had ended in great scandal for the person attacked and the other had very nearly ended in serious trouble. For this reason Pyotr Petrovitch intended to go into the subject as soon as he reached Petersburg and, if necessary, to anticipate contingencies by seeking the favour of “our younger generation.” He relied on Andrey Semyonovitch for this and before his visit to Raskolnikov he had succeeded in picking up some current phrases. He soon discovered that Andrey Semyonovitch was a commonplace simpleton, but that by no means reassured Pyotr Petrovitch. Even if he had been certain that all the progressives were fools like him, it would not have allayed his uneasiness. All the doctrines, the ideas, the systems, with which Andrey Semyonovitch pestered him had no interest for him. He had his own object—he simply wanted to find out at once what was happening here. Had these people any power or not? Had he anything to fear from them? Would they expose any enterprise of his? And what precisely was now the object of their attacks? Could he somehow make up to them and get round them if they really were powerful? Was this the thing to do or not? Couldn’t he gain something through them? In fact hundreds of questions presented themselves.

Andrey Semyonovitch had been home all morning. Pyotr Petrovitch’s attitude toward him was strange, though perhaps natural. He had despised and hated Andrey Semyonovitch since coming to stay with him. Yet he also seemed somewhat afraid of him. Saving money was not the only reason Pyotr Petrovitch had come to stay with him on arriving in Petersburg. It was perhaps his chief reason, though. He had heard that Andrey Semyonovitch, once his ward, was a leading young progressive. Andrey Semyonovitch played an important part in certain interesting circles, whose activities were legendary in the provinces. This had impressed Pyotr Petrovitch. These powerful, all-knowing circles despised everyone and exposed everyone’s faults. They had long filled him with a peculiar but quite vague alarm. Of course, he had not been able to form even an approximate idea of what these circles meant. Like everyone else, he had heard that there were progressives of some sort, nihilists and so on, especially in Petersburg. And like many people, he exaggerated and distorted the significance of those words to an absurd degree. For many years, what he had feared most was being shown up. This was the main reason he was always uneasy about moving his business to Petersburg. He feared it as much as little children sometimes fear things that terrify them. Some years earlier, when he was just starting his career, he had seen two cases of this kind. In each, a rather important person in the province had been cruelly shown up. Both had been his patrons. One case had ended in a great scandal for the person attacked. The other had very nearly ended in serious trouble. For this reason, Pyotr Petrovitch intended to look into the matter as soon as he reached Petersburg. If necessary, he would prepare for what might happen by seeking the favor of “our younger generation.” He relied on Andrey Semyonovitch for this. Before visiting Raskolnikov, he had managed to pick up some phrases that were in use. He soon discovered that Andrey Semyonovitch was an ordinary fool. But that did not reassure Pyotr Petrovitch at all. Even if he had been certain that all the progressives were fools like him, he would still have been uneasy. He had no interest in all the doctrines, ideas and systems that Andrey Semyonovitch pestered him with. He had his own purpose. He simply wanted to find out at once what was happening here. Did these people have any power or not? Did he have anything to fear from them? Would they expose any of his ventures? And what exactly were they attacking now? If they really were powerful, could he somehow win them over and get around them? Was that the thing to do or not? Could he gain something through them? In fact, hundreds of questions came to mind.

Andrey Semyonovitch was an anæmic, scrofulous little man, with strangely flaxen mutton-chop whiskers of which he was very proud. He was a clerk and had almost always something wrong with his eyes. He was rather soft-hearted, but self-confident and sometimes extremely conceited in speech, which had an absurd effect, incongruous with his little figure. He was one of the lodgers most respected by Amalia Ivanovna, for he did not get drunk and paid regularly for his lodging. Andrey Semyonovitch really was rather stupid; he attached himself to the cause of progress and “our younger generation” from enthusiasm. He was one of the numerous and varied legion of dullards, of half-animate abortions, conceited, half-educated coxcombs, who attach themselves to the idea most in fashion only to vulgarise it and who caricature every cause they serve, however sincerely.

Andrey Semyonovitch was a small, anemic man with scrofula and strangely pale blond mutton-chop whiskers. He was very proud of his whiskers. He was a clerk and almost always had something wrong with his eyes. He was rather soft-hearted, but self-confident and sometimes extremely conceited when he spoke. His conceited manner seemed absurd in such a little man. Amalia Ivanovna respected him more than most of her lodgers because he did not get drunk and paid his rent regularly. Andrey Semyonovitch really was rather stupid. He enthusiastically attached himself to the cause of progress and “our younger generation”. He was one of a vast and varied legion of dullards, half-alive abortions, and conceited, half-educated fools. They attach themselves to whatever idea is most fashionable, only to make it vulgar. They turn every cause they serve into a caricature, however sincere they may be.

Though Lebeziatnikov was so good-natured, he, too, was beginning to dislike Pyotr Petrovitch. This happened on both sides unconsciously. However simple Andrey Semyonovitch might be, he began to see that Pyotr Petrovitch was duping him and secretly despising him, and that “he was not the right sort of man.” He had tried expounding to him the system of Fourier and the Darwinian theory, but of late Pyotr Petrovitch began to listen too sarcastically and even to be rude. The fact was he had begun instinctively to guess that Lebeziatnikov was not merely a commonplace simpleton, but, perhaps, a liar, too, and that he had no connections of any consequence even in his own circle, but had simply picked things up third-hand; and that very likely he did not even know much about his own work of propaganda, for he was in too great a muddle. A fine person he would be to show anyone up! It must be noted, by the way, that Pyotr Petrovitch had during those ten days eagerly accepted the strangest praise from Andrey Semyonovitch; he had not protested, for instance, when Andrey Semyonovitch belauded him for being ready to contribute to the establishment of the new “commune,” or to abstain from christening his future children, or to acquiesce if Dounia were to take a lover a month after marriage, and so on. Pyotr Petrovitch so enjoyed hearing his own praises that he did not disdain even such virtues when they were attributed to him.

Though Lebeziatnikov was good-natured, he too was beginning to dislike Pyotr Petrovitch. Neither man was conscious of this growing dislike. However naive Andrey Semyonovitch might be, he began to see that Pyotr Petrovitch was fooling him and secretly despising him. He also saw that “he was not the right sort of man.” He had tried explaining Fourier’s system and Darwinian theory to him. But lately Pyotr Petrovitch had begun to listen with too much sarcasm and had even become rude. The truth was that Pyotr Petrovitch had begun to suspect something instinctively. Lebeziatnikov was not just an ordinary simpleton, but perhaps a liar as well. He had no important connections, even in his own circle, and had simply picked things up third-hand. Very likely, he did not even know much about his own propaganda work, since he was so confused. What a fine person he would be to expose anyone! It should be noted, by the way, that during those ten days Pyotr Petrovitch had eagerly accepted the strangest praise from Andrey Semyonovitch. For instance, he had not objected when Andrey Semyonovitch praised him for being willing to help establish the new “commune.” Nor had he objected to being praised for agreeing not to christen his future children. And he had not objected when praised for accepting that Dounia might take a lover a month after their marriage, and so on. Pyotr Petrovitch so enjoyed hearing himself praised that he did not look down on even such virtues when they were attributed to him.

Pyotr Petrovitch had had occasion that morning to realise some five-per-cent bonds and now he sat down to the table and counted over bundles of notes. Andrey Semyonovitch who hardly ever had any money walked about the room pretending to himself to look at all those bank notes with indifference and even contempt. Nothing would have convinced Pyotr Petrovitch that Andrey Semyonovitch could really look on the money unmoved, and the latter, on his side, kept thinking bitterly that Pyotr Petrovitch was capable of entertaining such an idea about him and was, perhaps, glad of the opportunity of teasing his young friend by reminding him of his inferiority and the great difference between them.

That morning, Pyotr Petrovitch had cashed in some five percent bonds. Now he sat at the table, counting bundles of banknotes. Andrey Semyonovitch, who hardly ever had any money, walked around the room. He pretended to himself that he regarded all those banknotes with indifference and even contempt. Nothing could have convinced Pyotr Petrovitch that Andrey Semyonovitch was really unmoved by the money. Andrey Semyonovitch, for his part, kept thinking bitterly that Pyotr Petrovitch was capable of thinking this about him. Perhaps Pyotr Petrovitch was even glad of the chance to tease his young friend. He could remind him of his inferiority and the great difference between them.

He found him incredibly inattentive and irritable, though he, Andrey Semyonovitch, began enlarging on his favourite subject, the foundation of a new special “commune.” The brief remarks that dropped from Pyotr Petrovitch between the clicking of the beads on the reckoning frame betrayed unmistakable and discourteous irony. But the “humane” Andrey Semyonovitch ascribed Pyotr Petrovitch’s ill-humour to his recent breach with Dounia and he was burning with impatience to discourse on that theme. He had something progressive to say on the subject which might console his worthy friend and “could not fail” to promote his development.

Andrey Semyonovitch found Pyotr Petrovitch incredibly distracted and irritable. Even so, Andrey began talking at length about his favorite subject, the founding of a new, special “commune.” As Pyotr Petrovitch clicked the beads on his abacus, his brief remarks revealed unmistakable and rude sarcasm. But the “humane” Andrey Semyonovitch blamed Pyotr Petrovitch’s bad mood on his recent break with Dounia. He was eager to discuss it. He had something progressive to say that might comfort his worthy friend and “could not fail” to advance his development.

“There is some sort of festivity being prepared at that... at the widow’s, isn’t there?” Pyotr Petrovitch asked suddenly, interrupting Andrey Semyonovitch at the most interesting passage.

“Some kind of celebration is being planned at the... at the widow’s, isn’t it?” Pyotr Petrovitch suddenly asked. He interrupted Andrey Semyonovitch at the most interesting part.

“Why, don’t you know? Why, I was telling you last night what I think about all such ceremonies. And she invited you too, I heard. You were talking to her yesterday...”

“Don’t you know? I told you last night what I think about all such ceremonies. I heard she invited you too. You were talking to her yesterday...”

“I should never have expected that beggarly fool would have spent on this feast all the money she got from that other fool, Raskolnikov. I was surprised just now as I came through at the preparations there, the wines! Several people are invited. It’s beyond everything!” continued Pyotr Petrovitch, who seemed to have some object in pursuing the conversation. “What? You say I am asked too? When was that? I don’t remember. But I shan’t go. Why should I? I only said a word to her in passing yesterday of the possibility of her obtaining a year’s salary as a destitute widow of a government clerk. I suppose she has invited me on that account, hasn’t she? He-he-he!”

“I never expected that penniless fool to spend all the money she got from that other fool, Raskolnikov, on this feast. As I came through just now, I was surprised by the preparations and the wine! Several people have been invited. It’s outrageous!” Pyotr Petrovitch went on, seeming to have some purpose in continuing the conversation. “What? You say I’m invited too? When was I invited? I don’t remember. But I won’t go. Why should I? Yesterday I only mentioned something to her in passing. As the destitute widow of a government clerk, she might be able to get a year’s salary. I suppose that’s why she invited me, isn’t it? He-he-he!”

“I don’t intend to go either,” said Lebeziatnikov.

“I’m not planning to go either,” said Lebeziatnikov.

“I should think not, after giving her a thrashing! You might well hesitate, he-he!”

“Of course not, after beating her! No wonder you hesitate, he-he!”

“Who thrashed? Whom?” cried Lebeziatnikov, flustered and blushing.

“Who beat whom?” cried Lebeziatnikov, flustered and blushing.

“Why, you thrashed Katerina Ivanovna a month ago. I heard so yesterday... so that’s what your convictions amount to... and the woman question, too, wasn’t quite sound, he-he-he!” and Pyotr Petrovitch, as though comforted, went back to clicking his beads.

“Why, you beat Katerina Ivanovna a month ago. I heard about it yesterday... so that’s what your beliefs amount to... and your views on women’s rights weren’t quite sound either, he-he-he!” Pyotr Petrovitch seemed comforted and went back to clicking his beads.

“It’s all slander and nonsense!” cried Lebeziatnikov, who was always afraid of allusions to the subject. “It was not like that at all, it was quite different. You’ve heard it wrong; it’s a libel. I was simply defending myself. She rushed at me first with her nails, she pulled out all my whiskers.... It’s permissible for anyone, I should hope, to defend himself and I never allow anyone to use violence to me on principle, for it’s an act of despotism. What was I to do? I simply pushed her back.”

“It’s all lies and nonsense!” cried Lebeziatnikov, who was always afraid of any mention of the subject. “It wasn’t like that at all. It was completely different. You heard it wrong. It’s a lie. I was just defending myself. She came at me first with her nails. She pulled out all my whiskers.... Surely anyone is allowed to defend himself. As a matter of principle, I never let anyone use violence against me, because that’s an act of tyranny. What was I supposed to do? I just pushed her back.”

“He-he-he!” Luzhin went on laughing maliciously.

“He-he-he!” Luzhin kept laughing spitefully.

“You keep on like that because you are out of humour yourself.... But that’s nonsense and it has nothing, nothing whatever to do with the woman question! You don’t understand; I used to think, indeed, that if women are equal to men in all respects, even in strength (as is maintained now) there ought to be equality in that, too. Of course, I reflected afterwards that such a question ought not really to arise, for there ought not to be fighting and in the future society fighting is unthinkable... and that it would be a queer thing to seek for equality in fighting. I am not so stupid... though, of course, there is fighting... there won’t be later, but at present there is... confound it! How muddled one gets with you! It’s not on that account that I am not going. I am not going on principle, not to take part in the revolting convention of memorial dinners, that’s why! Though, of course, one might go to laugh at it.... I am sorry there won’t be any priests at it. I should certainly go if there were.”

“You keep talking like that because you’re in a bad mood yourself.... But that’s nonsense, and it has nothing, nothing at all to do with the question of women’s rights! You don’t understand. I used to think that if women were equal to men in every way, even in strength, as people now claim, there ought to be equality in fighting too. Of course, I realized afterward that the question shouldn’t really come up. There shouldn’t be any fighting, and in the society of the future, fighting is unthinkable... Besides, it would be strange to look for equality in fighting. I’m not that stupid... Though, of course, there is fighting... There won’t be later, but there is now... Damn it! You get me so mixed up! That’s not why I’m not going. I’m not going on principle. I won’t take part in the revolting custom of memorial dinners, that’s why! Though, of course, one might go to laugh at it.... I’m sorry there won’t be any priests there. I’d certainly go if there were.”

“Then you would sit down at another man’s table and insult it and those who invited you. Eh?”

“Then you would sit at another man’s table and insult it and the people who invited you. Is that right?”

“Certainly not insult, but protest. I should do it with a good object. I might indirectly assist the cause of enlightenment and propaganda. It’s a duty of every man to work for enlightenment and propaganda and the more harshly, perhaps, the better. I might drop a seed, an idea.... And something might grow up from that seed. How should I be insulting them? They might be offended at first, but afterwards they’d see I’d done them a service. You know, Terebyeva (who is in the community now) was blamed because when she left her family and... devoted... herself, she wrote to her father and mother that she wouldn’t go on living conventionally and was entering on a free marriage and it was said that that was too harsh, that she might have spared them and have written more kindly. I think that’s all nonsense and there’s no need of softness; on the contrary, what’s wanted is protest. Varents had been married seven years, she abandoned her two children, she told her husband straight out in a letter: ‘I have realised that I cannot be happy with you. I can never forgive you that you have deceived me by concealing from me that there is another organisation of society by means of the communities. I have only lately learned it from a great-hearted man to whom I have given myself and with whom I am establishing a community. I speak plainly because I consider it dishonest to deceive you. Do as you think best. Do not hope to get me back, you are too late. I hope you will be happy.’ That’s how letters like that ought to be written!”

“Certainly not an insult, but a protest. I’d do it for a good reason. I might indirectly help the cause of enlightenment and propaganda. Every man has a duty to work for enlightenment and propaganda. And perhaps the more harshly he does it, the better. I might plant a seed, an idea.... And something might grow from that seed. How would I be insulting them? They might be offended at first, but afterward they’d see I’d done them a service. You know Terebyeva, who is in the community now. She was criticized for what she wrote to her parents when she left her family and... devoted... herself. She told them she wouldn’t go on living conventionally and was entering a free marriage. People said that was too harsh, that she could have spared them and written more kindly. I think that’s all nonsense. There’s no need to be gentle. On the contrary, what’s needed is protest. Varents had been married seven years, and she abandoned her two children. She told her husband straight out in a letter: ‘I’ve realized that I can’t be happy with you. I can never forgive you for deceiving me. You hid from me that there is another way to organize society, through communities. I only recently learned about it from a great-hearted man. I have given myself to him, and we are establishing a community together. I’m speaking plainly because I think it would be dishonest to deceive you. Do as you think best. Don’t hope to get me back, you’re too late. I hope you’ll be happy.’ That’s how letters like that ought to be written!”

“Is that Terebyeva the one you said had made a third free marriage?”

“Is that the Terebyeva you said had entered a third free marriage?”

“No, it’s only the second, really! But what if it were the fourth, what if it were the fifteenth, that’s all nonsense! And if ever I regretted the death of my father and mother, it is now, and I sometimes think if my parents were living what a protest I would have aimed at them! I would have done something on purpose... I would have shown them! I would have astonished them! I am really sorry there is no one!”

“No, it’s really only the second! But what if it were the fourth or the fifteenth? That’s all nonsense! If I ever regretted my father and mother’s deaths, it’s now. Sometimes I think about how I would have protested to them if they were alive! I would have done something on purpose... I would have shown them! I would have astonished them! I’m really sorry there’s no one!”

“To surprise! He-he! Well, be that as you will,” Pyotr Petrovitch interrupted, “but tell me this; do you know the dead man’s daughter, the delicate-looking little thing? It’s true what they say about her, isn’t it?”

“To surprise! He-he! Well, have it your way,” Pyotr Petrovitch interrupted. “But tell me this. Do you know the dead man’s daughter, the delicate-looking little thing? What they say about her is true, isn’t it?”

“What of it? I think, that is, it is my own personal conviction that this is the normal condition of women. Why not? I mean, distinguons. In our present society it is not altogether normal, because it is compulsory, but in the future society it will be perfectly normal, because it will be voluntary. Even as it is, she was quite right: she was suffering and that was her asset, so to speak, her capital which she had a perfect right to dispose of. Of course, in the future society there will be no need of assets, but her part will have another significance, rational and in harmony with her environment. As to Sofya Semyonovna personally, I regard her action as a vigorous protest against the organisation of society, and I respect her deeply for it; I rejoice indeed when I look at her!”

“What of it? I think, that is, I personally believe this is the normal condition of women. Why not? I mean, let’s make a distinction. In our society today, it isn’t entirely normal, because it’s compulsory. But in the society of the future, it will be perfectly normal, because it will be voluntary. Even now, she was quite right. She was suffering, and that was her asset, her capital, so to speak. She had every right to use it as she chose. Of course, in the future society there will be no need for assets. But her role will have another meaning, one that is rational and in harmony with her surroundings. As for Sofya Semyonovna herself, I see her action as a strong protest against the way society is organized. I respect her deeply for it. Indeed, I rejoice when I look at her!”

“I was told that you got her turned out of these lodgings.”

“I was told you got her kicked out of this place.”

Lebeziatnikov was enraged.

Lebeziatnikov was furious.

“That’s another slander,” he yelled. “It was not so at all! That was all Katerina Ivanovna’s invention, for she did not understand! And I never made love to Sofya Semyonovna! I was simply developing her, entirely disinterestedly, trying to rouse her to protest.... All I wanted was her protest and Sofya Semyonovna could not have remained here anyway!”

“That’s another lie,” he yelled. “It wasn’t like that at all! Katerina Ivanovna made it all up because she didn’t understand! And I never made romantic advances toward Sofya Semyonovna! I was only helping her develop, with no self-interest at all, trying to stir her to protest.... All I wanted was for her to protest, and Sofya Semyonovna couldn’t have stayed here anyway!”

“Have you asked her to join your community?”

“Have you asked her to join your community?”

“You keep on laughing and very inappropriately, allow me to tell you. You don’t understand! There is no such rôle in a community. The community is established that there should be no such rôles. In a community, such a rôle is essentially transformed and what is stupid here is sensible there, what, under present conditions, is unnatural becomes perfectly natural in the community. It all depends on the environment. It’s all the environment and man himself is nothing. And I am on good terms with Sofya Semyonovna to this day, which is a proof that she never regarded me as having wronged her. I am trying now to attract her to the community, but on quite, quite a different footing. What are you laughing at? We are trying to establish a community of our own, a special one, on a broader basis. We have gone further in our convictions. We reject more! And meanwhile I’m still developing Sofya Semyonovna. She has a beautiful, beautiful character!”

“You keep laughing, and it’s very inappropriate, if you ask me. You don’t understand! There’s no such role in a community. A community is set up so that there won’t be any such roles. In a community, a role like that is completely transformed. What’s stupid here is sensible there. What’s unnatural under present conditions becomes perfectly natural in a community. It all depends on the environment. Everything is the environment, and the person himself is nothing. And I’m still on good terms with Sofya Semyonovna. That proves she never thought I had wronged her. I’m trying to draw her into the community now, but on a completely, completely different footing. What are you laughing at? We’re trying to establish a community of our own, a special one, on a broader basis. We’ve gone further in our beliefs. We reject more! And in the meantime, I’m still helping Sofya Semyonovna develop. She has a beautiful, beautiful character!”

“And you take advantage of her fine character, eh? He-he!”

“And you take advantage of her good nature, huh? He-he!”

“No, no! Oh, no! On the contrary.”

“No, no! Oh, no! Just the opposite.”

“Oh, the contrary! He-he-he! A queer thing to say!”

“Oh, quite the opposite! He-he-he! What a strange thing to say!”

“Believe me! Why should I disguise it? In fact, I feel it strange myself how timid, chaste and modest she is with me!”

“Believe me! Why would I hide it? In fact, I find it strange myself how shy, chaste, and modest she is with me!”

“And you, of course, are developing her... he-he! trying to prove to her that all that modesty is nonsense?”

“And you, of course, are educating her... he-he! Trying to prove to her that all that modesty is nonsense?”

“Not at all, not at all! How coarsely, how stupidly—excuse me saying so—you misunderstand the word development! Good heavens, how... crude you still are! We are striving for the freedom of women and you have only one idea in your head.... Setting aside the general question of chastity and feminine modesty as useless in themselves and indeed prejudices, I fully accept her chastity with me, because that’s for her to decide. Of course if she were to tell me herself that she wanted me, I should think myself very lucky, because I like the girl very much; but as it is, no one has ever treated her more courteously than I, with more respect for her dignity... I wait in hopes, that’s all!”

“Not at all, not at all! Excuse me for saying so, but you misunderstand the word development so crudely and stupidly! Good heavens, how... crude you still are! We’re fighting for women’s freedom, and you have only one idea in your head.... I consider chastity and feminine modesty useless in themselves, and indeed prejudices. But I fully accept her decision to remain chaste with me, because that’s for her to decide. Of course, if she told me she wanted me, I’d consider myself very lucky. I like the girl very much. But as things stand, no one has ever treated her more courteously or with more respect for her dignity than I have... I wait and hope, that’s all!”

“You had much better make her a present of something. I bet you never thought of that.”

“You'd be much better off giving her a gift. I bet you never thought of that.”

“You don’t understand, as I’ve told you already! Of course, she is in such a position, but it’s another question. Quite another question! You simply despise her. Seeing a fact which you mistakenly consider deserving of contempt, you refuse to take a humane view of a fellow creature. You don’t know what a character she is! I am only sorry that of late she has quite given up reading and borrowing books. I used to lend them to her. I am sorry, too, that with all the energy and resolution in protesting—which she has already shown once—she has little self-reliance, little, so to say, independence, so as to break free from certain prejudices and certain foolish ideas. Yet she thoroughly understands some questions, for instance about kissing of hands, that is, that it’s an insult to a woman for a man to kiss her hand, because it’s a sign of inequality. We had a debate about it and I described it to her. She listened attentively to an account of the workmen’s associations in France, too. Now I am explaining the question of coming into the room in the future society.”

“You don’t understand, as I’ve already told you! Of course, that is her situation, but that’s another question. A completely different question! You simply despise her. You see a fact that you wrongly think deserves contempt. So you refuse to look at a fellow human being with compassion. You don’t know what kind of person she is! I’m just sorry that lately she’s stopped reading and borrowing books altogether. I used to lend them to her. I’m also sorry that she has so little confidence in herself, so little independence, you might say. Yet she has already shown, once, how energetically and determinedly she can protest. Still, she lacks the independence to break free from certain prejudices and foolish ideas. Yet she understands some issues perfectly. Take kissing hands, for example. She understands that when a man kisses a woman’s hand, it insults her because it’s a sign of inequality. We debated the matter, and I explained it to her. She also listened attentively when I told her about the workers’ associations in France. Now I’m explaining the question of entering a room in the society of the future.”

“And what’s that, pray?”

“And what’s that?”

“We had a debate lately on the question: Has a member of the community the right to enter another member’s room, whether man or woman, at any time... and we decided that he has!”

“We recently debated whether a community member has the right to enter another member’s room at any time, whether that member is a man or a woman... and we decided he does!”

“It might be at an inconvenient moment, he-he!”

“It might be at a bad time, he-he!”

Lebeziatnikov was really angry.

Lebeziatnikov was really angry.

“You are always thinking of something unpleasant,” he cried with aversion. “Tfoo! How vexed I am that when I was expounding our system, I referred prematurely to the question of personal privacy! It’s always a stumbling-block to people like you, they turn it into ridicule before they understand it. And how proud they are of it, too! Tfoo! I’ve often maintained that that question should not be approached by a novice till he has a firm faith in the system. And tell me, please, what do you find so shameful even in cesspools? I should be the first to be ready to clean out any cesspool you like. And it’s not a question of self-sacrifice, it’s simply work, honourable, useful work which is as good as any other and much better than the work of a Raphael and a Pushkin, because it is more useful.”

“You’re always thinking of something unpleasant,” he cried in disgust. “Ugh! I’m so annoyed that I brought up personal privacy too soon when I was explaining our system! That question always trips up people like you. You make fun of it before you understand it. And you’re so proud of yourselves for doing it! Ugh! I’ve often said beginners shouldn’t tackle that question until they have firm faith in the system. And please tell me, what’s so shameful about cesspools anyway? I’d be the first to volunteer to clean out any cesspool you like. And it wouldn’t be an act of self-sacrifice. It’s simply work, honorable, useful work that’s as good as any other. It’s much better than the work of a Raphael or a Pushkin, because it’s more useful.”

“And more honourable, more honourable, he-he-he!”

“And more honorable, more honorable, he-he-he!”

“What do you mean by ‘more honourable’? I don’t understand such expressions to describe human activity. ‘More honourable,’ ‘nobler’—all those are old-fashioned prejudices which I reject. Everything which is of use to mankind is honourable. I only understand one word: useful! You can snigger as much as you like, but that’s so!”

“What do you mean by ‘more honourable’? I don’t understand using expressions like that to describe human activity. ‘More honourable,’ ‘nobler.’ Those are all old-fashioned prejudices that I reject. Everything that is of use to humanity is honourable. I only understand one word: useful! You can snicker as much as you like, but that’s how it is!”

Pyotr Petrovitch laughed heartily. He had finished counting the money and was putting it away. But some of the notes he left on the table. The “cesspool question” had already been a subject of dispute between them. What was absurd was that it made Lebeziatnikov really angry, while it amused Luzhin and at that moment he particularly wanted to anger his young friend.

Pyotr Petrovitch laughed heartily. He had finished counting the money and was putting it away. But he left some of the notes on the table. The “cesspool question” had already caused arguments between them. The absurd thing was that it made Lebeziatnikov truly angry, while it amused Luzhin. And just then, Luzhin especially wanted to make his young friend angry.

“It’s your ill-luck yesterday that makes you so ill-humoured and annoying,” blurted out Lebeziatnikov, who in spite of his “independence” and his “protests” did not venture to oppose Pyotr Petrovitch and still behaved to him with some of the respect habitual in earlier years.

“Your bad luck yesterday is what makes you so bad-tempered and annoying,” Lebeziatnikov blurted out. Despite his “independence” and his “protests,” he did not dare oppose Pyotr Petrovitch. He still treated him with some of the respect he had shown him in earlier years.

“You’d better tell me this,” Pyotr Petrovitch interrupted with haughty displeasure, “can you... or rather are you really friendly enough with that young person to ask her to step in here for a minute? I think they’ve all come back from the cemetery... I hear the sound of steps... I want to see her, that young person.”

“You’d better tell me this,” Pyotr Petrovitch interrupted, sounding annoyed and superior. “Can you... or rather, are you friendly enough with that young woman to ask her to come in here for a minute? I think they’ve all come back from the cemetery... I hear footsteps... I want to see that young woman.”

“What for?” Lebeziatnikov asked with surprise.

“What for?” Lebeziatnikov asked, surprised.

“Oh, I want to. I am leaving here to-day or to-morrow and therefore I wanted to speak to her about... However, you may be present during the interview. It’s better you should be, indeed. For there’s no knowing what you might imagine.”

“Oh, I want to. I’m leaving here today or tomorrow, so I wanted to talk to her about... But you can be there for the conversation. In fact, it’s better if you are. There’s no telling what you might imagine otherwise.”

“I shan’t imagine anything. I only asked and, if you’ve anything to say to her, nothing is easier than to call her in. I’ll go directly and you may be sure I won’t be in your way.”

“I won’t imagine anything. I only asked. And if you have anything to say to her, it’s easy enough to call her in. I’ll leave right away, and you can be sure I won’t get in your way.”

Five minutes later Lebeziatnikov came in with Sonia. She came in very much surprised and overcome with shyness as usual. She was always shy in such circumstances and was always afraid of new people, she had been as a child and was even more so now.... Pyotr Petrovitch met her “politely and affably,” but with a certain shade of bantering familiarity which in his opinion was suitable for a man of his respectability and weight in dealing with a creature so young and so interesting as she. He hastened to “reassure” her and made her sit down facing him at the table. Sonia sat down, looked about her—at Lebeziatnikov, at the notes lying on the table and then again at Pyotr Petrovitch and her eyes remained riveted on him. Lebeziatnikov was moving to the door. Pyotr Petrovitch signed to Sonia to remain seated and stopped Lebeziatnikov.

Five minutes later, Lebeziatnikov came in with Sonia. As usual, she was very surprised and overcome with shyness. She was always shy in such situations and afraid of new people. She had been that way as a child and was even more so now.... Pyotr Petrovitch greeted her “politely and warmly,” but with a hint of teasing familiarity. He thought this was suitable for a man of his respectability and importance when dealing with someone so young and interesting as she was. He hurried to “reassure” her and had her sit across from him at the table. Sonia sat down and looked around. She looked at Lebeziatnikov, then at the banknotes on the table, and then back at Pyotr Petrovitch. Her eyes stayed fixed on him. Lebeziatnikov was moving toward the door. Pyotr Petrovitch motioned for Sonia to stay seated and stopped Lebeziatnikov.

“Is Raskolnikov in there? Has he come?” he asked him in a whisper.

“Is Raskolnikov in there? Has he arrived?” he whispered to him.

“Raskolnikov? Yes. Why? Yes, he is there. I saw him just come in.... Why?”

“Raskolnikov? Yes. Why? Yes, he’s there. I just saw him come in.... Why?”

“Well, I particularly beg you to remain here with us and not to leave me alone with this... young woman. I only want a few words with her, but God knows what they may make of it. I shouldn’t like Raskolnikov to repeat anything.... You understand what I mean?”

“Well, I especially ask you to stay here with us and not leave me alone with this... young woman. I only want a few words with her, but God knows what they might make of it. I wouldn’t want Raskolnikov to repeat anything.... You understand what I mean?”

“I understand!” Lebeziatnikov saw the point. “Yes, you are right.... Of course, I am convinced personally that you have no reason to be uneasy, but... still, you are right. Certainly I’ll stay. I’ll stand here at the window and not be in your way... I think you are right...”

“I understand!” Lebeziatnikov saw the point. “Yes, you’re right.... Of course, I’m personally convinced you have no reason to worry, but... still, you’re right. I’ll certainly stay. I’ll stand here by the window and stay out of your way... I think you’re right...”

Pyotr Petrovitch returned to the sofa, sat down opposite Sonia, looked attentively at her and assumed an extremely dignified, even severe expression, as much as to say, “don’t you make any mistake, madam.” Sonia was overwhelmed with embarrassment.

Pyotr Petrovitch returned to the sofa and sat down opposite Sonia. He looked at her closely and put on a very dignified, even stern expression. It was as if he were saying, “Don’t make any mistake, madam.” Sonia was overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“In the first place, Sofya Semyonovna, will you make my excuses to your respected mamma.... That’s right, isn’t it? Katerina Ivanovna stands in the place of a mother to you?” Pyotr Petrovitch began with great dignity, though affably.

“First, Sofya Semyonovna, will you make my apologies to your respected mother? ... That’s right, isn’t it? Katerina Ivanovna is like a mother to you?” Pyotr Petrovitch began with great dignity, though in a friendly way.

It was evident that his intentions were friendly.

It was clear that he meant to be friendly.

“Quite so, yes; the place of a mother,” Sonia answered, timidly and hurriedly.

“Yes, exactly, a mother’s place,” Sonia answered timidly and hurriedly.

“Then will you make my apologies to her? Through inevitable circumstances I am forced to be absent and shall not be at the dinner in spite of your mamma’s kind invitation.”

“Then will you apologize to her for me? Unavoidable circumstances mean I can’t attend the dinner, despite your mother’s kind invitation.”

“Yes... I’ll tell her... at once.”

“Yes... I’ll tell her... right away.”

And Sonia hastily jumped up from her seat.

And Sonia quickly jumped up from her seat.

“Wait, that’s not all,” Pyotr Petrovitch detained her, smiling at her simplicity and ignorance of good manners, “and you know me little, my dear Sofya Semyonovna, if you suppose I would have ventured to trouble a person like you for a matter of so little consequence affecting myself only. I have another object.”

“Wait, that’s not all,” Pyotr Petrovitch said, stopping her. He smiled at her simplicity and lack of manners. “And you know me very little, my dear Sofya Semyonovna, if you think I would trouble someone like you over something so unimportant that concerned only me. I have another purpose.”

Sonia sat down hurriedly. Her eyes rested again for an instant on the grey-and-rainbow-coloured notes that remained on the table, but she quickly looked away and fixed her eyes on Pyotr Petrovitch. She felt it horribly indecorous, especially for her, to look at another person’s money. She stared at the gold eye-glass which Pyotr Petrovitch held in his left hand and at the massive and extremely handsome ring with a yellow stone on his middle finger. But suddenly she looked away and, not knowing where to turn, ended by staring Pyotr Petrovitch again straight in the face. After a pause of still greater dignity he continued.

Sonia sat down quickly. Her eyes briefly returned to the gray and rainbow-colored banknotes still on the table. But she quickly looked away and fixed her eyes on Pyotr Petrovitch. She felt it was terribly improper, especially for her, to look at someone else’s money. She stared at the gold eyeglass Pyotr Petrovitch held in his left hand. She also stared at the massive, very handsome ring with a yellow stone on his middle finger. But suddenly she looked away. Not knowing where to look, she ended up staring straight at Pyotr Petrovitch’s face again. After an even more dignified pause, he continued.

“I chanced yesterday in passing to exchange a couple of words with Katerina Ivanovna, poor woman. That was sufficient to enable me to ascertain that she is in a position—preternatural, if one may so express it.”

“Yesterday, I happened to exchange a few words with Katerina Ivanovna as I passed by. Poor woman. That was enough for me to see that she is in an unnatural state, if one may put it that way.”

“Yes... preternatural...” Sonia hurriedly assented.

“Yes... supernatural...” Sonia quickly agreed.

“Or it would be simpler and more comprehensible to say, ill.”

“Or, to put it more simply and clearly, ill.”

“Yes, simpler and more comprehen... yes, ill.”

“Yes, simpler and easier to understa... yes, ill.”

“Quite so. So then from a feeling of humanity and so to speak compassion, I should be glad to be of service to her in any way, foreseeing her unfortunate position. I believe the whole of this poverty-stricken family depends now entirely on you?”

“Exactly. So, out of humanity and, so to speak, compassion, I would be glad to help her in any way I can. I can see the difficult position she will be in. I believe this whole poor family now depends entirely on you?”

“Allow me to ask,” Sonia rose to her feet, “did you say something to her yesterday of the possibility of a pension? Because she told me you had undertaken to get her one. Was that true?”

“Can I ask you something?” Sonia stood up. “Did you tell her yesterday that she might get a pension? She told me you had promised to get her one. Was that true?”

“Not in the slightest, and indeed it’s an absurdity! I merely hinted at her obtaining temporary assistance as the widow of an official who had died in the service—if only she has patronage... but apparently your late parent had not served his full term and had not indeed been in the service at all of late. In fact, if there could be any hope, it would be very ephemeral, because there would be no claim for assistance in that case, far from it.... And she is dreaming of a pension already, he-he-he!... A go-ahead lady!”

“Not at all. In fact, it’s absurd! I only suggested that she might get temporary assistance as the widow of an official who died in service. That is, if she has someone to support her claim... But apparently your late parent hadn’t completed his full term. In fact, he hadn’t been in the service at all lately. Even if there were any hope, it would be very short-lived. In that case, there would be no claim to assistance, far from it.... And she’s already dreaming of a pension, he-he-he!... An enterprising lady!”

“Yes, she is. For she is credulous and good-hearted, and she believes everything from the goodness of her heart and... and... and she is like that... yes... You must excuse her,” said Sonia, and again she got up to go.

“Yes, she is. She’s trusting and kindhearted, and she believes everything because she has a good heart. And... and... and that’s how she is... yes... You must forgive her,” Sonia said, getting up to leave again.

“But you haven’t heard what I have to say.”

“But you haven’t heard what I have to say.”

“No, I haven’t heard,” muttered Sonia.

“No, I haven’t heard,” muttered Sonia.

“Then sit down.” She was terribly confused; she sat down again a third time.

“Then sit down.” She was terribly confused. She sat down for the third time.

“Seeing her position with her unfortunate little ones, I should be glad, as I have said before, so far as lies in my power, to be of service, that is, so far as is in my power, not more. One might for instance get up a subscription for her, or a lottery, something of the sort, such as is always arranged in such cases by friends or even outsiders desirous of assisting people. It was of that I intended to speak to you; it might be done.”

“Seeing her situation with her unfortunate little children, I would be glad to help, as I said before. That is, as far as I can, no more. For example, we might organize a collection or a lottery for her, or something like that. Friends or even strangers who want to help people always arrange such things in cases like this. That is what I meant to speak to you about. It could be done.”

“Yes, yes... God will repay you for it,” faltered Sonia, gazing intently at Pyotr Petrovitch.

“Yes, yes... God will repay you for it,” Sonia said hesitantly, staring intently at Pyotr Petrovitch.

“It might be, but we will talk of it later. We might begin it to-day, we will talk it over this evening and lay the foundation so to speak. Come to me at seven o’clock. Mr. Lebeziatnikov, I hope, will assist us. But there is one circumstance of which I ought to warn you beforehand and for which I venture to trouble you, Sofya Semyonovna, to come here. In my opinion money cannot be, indeed it’s unsafe to put it into Katerina Ivanovna’s own hands. The dinner to-day is a proof of that. Though she has not, so to speak, a crust of bread for to-morrow and... well, boots or shoes, or anything; she has bought to-day Jamaica rum, and even, I believe, Madeira and... and coffee. I saw it as I passed through. To-morrow it will all fall upon you again, they won’t have a crust of bread. It’s absurd, really, and so, to my thinking, a subscription ought to be raised so that the unhappy widow should not know of the money, but only you, for instance. Am I right?”

“It might be possible, but we can talk about it later. We could start today. We’ll discuss it this evening and lay the groundwork, so to speak. Come to me at seven o’clock. I hope Mr. Lebeziatnikov will help us. But there is one thing I should warn you about beforehand. That is why I took the liberty of asking you to come here, Sofya Semyonovna. In my opinion, we cannot give the money to Katerina Ivanovna herself. In fact, it would be unsafe. Today’s dinner proves it. She doesn’t have a crust of bread for tomorrow and... well, boots or shoes, or anything. Yet today she bought Jamaica rum, and even, I believe, Madeira and... and coffee. I saw it as I passed through. Tomorrow it will all fall on you again. They won’t have a crust of bread. It’s absurd, really. So I think we should raise money without letting the poor widow know about it. Only you, for instance, would know. Am I right?”

“I don’t know... this is only to-day, once in her life.... She was so anxious to do honour, to celebrate the memory.... And she is very sensible... but just as you think and I shall be very, very... they will all be... and God will reward... and the orphans...”

“I don’t know... this is only today, just once in her life.... She was so eager to pay her respects, to honor the memory.... And she is very sensible... but as you think best, and I shall be very, very... they will all be... and God will reward... and the orphans...”

Sonia burst into tears.

Sonia burst into tears.

“Very well, then, keep it in mind; and now will you accept for the benefit of your relation the small sum that I am able to spare, from me personally. I am very anxious that my name should not be mentioned in connection with it. Here... having so to speak anxieties of my own, I cannot do more...”

“All right, then, keep it in mind. Now, will you accept the small amount I can spare to help your relative? It is from me personally. I’m very anxious that my name not be mentioned in connection with it. Here... I have worries of my own, so to speak, and I can’t do more...”

And Pyotr Petrovitch held out to Sonia a ten-rouble note carefully unfolded. Sonia took it, flushed crimson, jumped up, muttered something and began taking leave. Pyotr Petrovitch accompanied her ceremoniously to the door. She got out of the room at last, agitated and distressed, and returned to Katerina Ivanovna, overwhelmed with confusion.

Pyotr Petrovitch held out a carefully unfolded ten-rouble note to Sonia. She took it, blushed crimson, jumped up, mumbled something, and began saying goodbye. Pyotr Petrovitch formally escorted her to the door. At last she left the room, upset and distressed. She returned to Katerina Ivanovna, overwhelmed with confusion.

All this time Lebeziatnikov had stood at the window or walked about the room, anxious not to interrupt the conversation; when Sonia had gone he walked up to Pyotr Petrovitch and solemnly held out his hand.

All this time, Lebeziatnikov had stood by the window or walked around the room, careful not to interrupt the conversation. When Sonia left, he walked up to Pyotr Petrovitch and solemnly held out his hand.

“I heard and saw everything,” he said, laying stress on the last verb. “That is honourable, I mean to say, it’s humane! You wanted to avoid gratitude, I saw! And although I cannot, I confess, in principle sympathise with private charity, for it not only fails to eradicate the evil but even promotes it, yet I must admit that I saw your action with pleasure—yes, yes, I like it.”

“I heard and saw everything,” he said, stressing the last word. “That’s honorable, I mean, it’s humane! I saw that you wanted to avoid being thanked! I confess that, in principle, I don’t approve of private charity. It not only fails to eliminate the evil but even encourages it. Even so, I must admit that I was pleased to see what you did. Yes, yes, I like it.”

“That’s all nonsense,” muttered Pyotr Petrovitch, somewhat disconcerted, looking carefully at Lebeziatnikov.

“That’s all nonsense,” muttered Pyotr Petrovitch, a little flustered, as he looked carefully at Lebeziatnikov.

“No, it’s not nonsense! A man who has suffered distress and annoyance as you did yesterday and who yet can sympathise with the misery of others, such a man... even though he is making a social mistake—is still deserving of respect! I did not expect it indeed of you, Pyotr Petrovitch, especially as according to your ideas... oh, what a drawback your ideas are to you! How distressed you are for instance by your ill-luck yesterday,” cried the simple-hearted Lebeziatnikov, who felt a return of affection for Pyotr Petrovitch. “And, what do you want with marriage, with legal marriage, my dear, noble Pyotr Petrovitch? Why do you cling to this legality of marriage? Well, you may beat me if you like, but I am glad, positively glad it hasn’t come off, that you are free, that you are not quite lost for humanity.... you see, I’ve spoken my mind!”

“No, it’s not nonsense! You suffered distress and frustration yesterday, yet you can still sympathize with the misery of others. A man like that deserves respect, even if he is making a social mistake! I really didn’t expect it of you, Pyotr Petrovitch, especially considering your ideas... Oh, how your ideas hold you back! Just look at how upset you are about your bad luck yesterday,” cried the kindhearted Lebeziatnikov, who felt affection for Pyotr Petrovitch again. “And why do you want marriage, legal marriage, my dear, noble Pyotr Petrovitch? Why do you cling to the legality of marriage? Well, you can beat me if you like, but I’m glad, truly glad the marriage didn’t happen. You’re free, and you’re not entirely lost to humanity.... There, I’ve spoken my mind!”

“Because I don’t want in your free marriage to be made a fool of and to bring up another man’s children, that’s why I want legal marriage,” Luzhin replied in order to make some answer.

“Because I don’t want to be made a fool of in your free marriage and raise another man’s children. That’s why I want a legal marriage,” Luzhin replied, just to give some answer.

He seemed preoccupied by something.

He seemed distracted by something.

“Children? You referred to children,” Lebeziatnikov started off like a warhorse at the trumpet call. “Children are a social question and a question of first importance, I agree; but the question of children has another solution. Some refuse to have children altogether, because they suggest the institution of the family. We’ll speak of children later, but now as to the question of honour, I confess that’s my weak point. That horrid, military, Pushkin expression is unthinkable in the dictionary of the future. What does it mean indeed? It’s nonsense, there will be no deception in a free marriage! That is only the natural consequence of a legal marriage, so to say, its corrective, a protest. So that indeed it’s not humiliating... and if I ever, to suppose an absurdity, were to be legally married, I should be positively glad of it. I should say to my wife: ‘My dear, hitherto I have loved you, now I respect you, for you’ve shown you can protest!’ You laugh! That’s because you are incapable of getting away from prejudices. Confound it all! I understand now where the unpleasantness is of being deceived in a legal marriage, but it’s simply a despicable consequence of a despicable position in which both are humiliated. When the deception is open, as in a free marriage, then it does not exist, it’s unthinkable. Your wife will only prove how she respects you by considering you incapable of opposing her happiness and avenging yourself on her for her new husband. Damn it all! I sometimes dream if I were to be married, pfoo! I mean if I were to marry, legally or not, it’s just the same, I should present my wife with a lover if she had not found one for herself. ‘My dear,’ I should say, ‘I love you, but even more than that I desire you to respect me. See!’ Am I not right?”

“Children? You mentioned children,” Lebeziatnikov began, charging ahead like a warhorse at a trumpet call. “Children are a social question, and a very important one, I agree. But there’s another solution to the question of children. Some people refuse to have children altogether because children suggest the institution of the family. We’ll talk about children later. But as for the question of honor, I confess that’s my weak point. That horrible military expression of Pushkin’s is unthinkable in the dictionary of the future. What does it even mean? It’s nonsense. There can be no deception in a free marriage! Deception is only a natural consequence of legal marriage, a correction to it, so to speak, a protest. So it’s not humiliating at all. If I ever, absurd as the idea is, were to marry legally, I’d actually be glad of it. I’d say to my wife: ‘My dear, until now I’ve loved you. Now I respect you, because you’ve shown you can protest!’ “You laugh! That’s because you can’t free yourself from prejudice. Damn it all! I understand now why being deceived in a legal marriage is unpleasant. But it’s simply a contemptible result of a contemptible situation, one that humiliates both people. When the deception is out in the open, as in a free marriage, it doesn’t exist. It’s unthinkable. Your wife will only show how much she respects you. She’ll show that she knows you wouldn’t stand in the way of her happiness or take revenge on her for her new husband. Damn it all! I sometimes dream that if I were to be married, pfoo! I mean, if I were to marry, legally or not, it’s all the same, I’d give my wife a lover if she hadn’t found one herself. ‘My dear,’ I’d say, ‘I love you, but even more than that, I want you to respect me. See!’ Am I not right?”

Pyotr Petrovitch sniggered as he listened, but without much merriment. He hardly heard it indeed. He was preoccupied with something else and even Lebeziatnikov at last noticed it. Pyotr Petrovitch seemed excited and rubbed his hands. Lebeziatnikov remembered all this and reflected upon it afterwards.

Pyotr Petrovitch snickered as he listened, but he wasn't very amused. In fact, he hardly heard what was being said. He was preoccupied with something else, and even Lebeziatnikov finally noticed. Pyotr Petrovitch seemed excited and rubbed his hands. Lebeziatnikov remembered all this and thought about it afterward.