Chapter 3

The fact was that up to the last moment he had never expected such an ending; he had been overbearing to the last degree, never dreaming that two destitute and defenceless women could escape from his control. This conviction was strengthened by his vanity and conceit, a conceit to the point of fatuity. Pyotr Petrovitch, who had made his way up from insignificance, was morbidly given to self-admiration, had the highest opinion of his intelligence and capacities, and sometimes even gloated in solitude over his image in the glass. But what he loved and valued above all was the money he had amassed by his labour, and by all sorts of devices: that money made him the equal of all who had been his superiors.

The fact was that until the very last moment, he had never expected things to end this way. He had been utterly overbearing, never imagining that two destitute, defenseless women could escape his control. His vanity and conceit, which bordered on foolishness, made him even more certain of his control. Pyotr Petrovitch had risen from humble beginnings. He was obsessively self-admiring and had the highest opinion of his intelligence and abilities. Sometimes he even gazed at himself in the mirror when alone, admiring what he saw. But what he loved and valued most was the money he had amassed through his work and all sorts of schemes. That money made him the equal of everyone who had once been above him.

When he had bitterly reminded Dounia that he had decided to take her in spite of evil report, Pyotr Petrovitch had spoken with perfect sincerity and had, indeed, felt genuinely indignant at such “black ingratitude.” And yet, when he made Dounia his offer, he was fully aware of the groundlessness of all the gossip. The story had been everywhere contradicted by Marfa Petrovna, and was by then disbelieved by all the townspeople, who were warm in Dounia’s defence. And he would not have denied that he knew all that at the time. Yet he still thought highly of his own resolution in lifting Dounia to his level and regarded it as something heroic. In speaking of it to Dounia, he had let out the secret feeling he cherished and admired, and he could not understand that others should fail to admire it too. He had called on Raskolnikov with the feelings of a benefactor who is about to reap the fruits of his good deeds and to hear agreeable flattery. And as he went downstairs now, he considered himself most undeservedly injured and unrecognised.

Pyotr Petrovitch had bitterly reminded Dounia that he had decided to marry her despite the damaging rumors. He had been completely sincere and genuinely outraged by her “black ingratitude.” Yet when he proposed to Dounia, he knew perfectly well that the gossip was baseless. Marfa Petrovna had denied the story everywhere. By then, none of the townspeople believed it, and all warmly defended Dounia. He would not have denied knowing all this at the time. Still, he thought highly of his decision to raise Dounia to his own level. He saw it as a heroic act. When he spoke of it to Dounia, he revealed a secret feeling he cherished and admired. He could not understand why others did not admire it too. He had called on Raskolnikov feeling like a benefactor about to reap the rewards of his good deeds and hear pleasant flattery. Now, as he went downstairs, he felt deeply wronged and unappreciated, though he had done nothing to deserve such treatment.

Dounia was simply essential to him; to do without her was unthinkable. For many years he had voluptuous dreams of marriage, but he had gone on waiting and amassing money. He brooded with relish, in profound secret, over the image of a girl—virtuous, poor (she must be poor), very young, very pretty, of good birth and education, very timid, one who had suffered much, and was completely humbled before him, one who would all her life look on him as her saviour, worship him, admire him and only him. How many scenes, how many amorous episodes he had imagined on this seductive and playful theme, when his work was over! And, behold, the dream of so many years was all but realised; the beauty and education of Avdotya Romanovna had impressed him; her helpless position had been a great allurement; in her he had found even more than he dreamed of. Here was a girl of pride, character, virtue, of education and breeding superior to his own (he felt that), and this creature would be slavishly grateful all her life for his heroic condescension, and would humble herself in the dust before him, and he would have absolute, unbounded power over her!... Not long before, he had, too, after long reflection and hesitation, made an important change in his career and was now entering on a wider circle of business. With this change his cherished dreams of rising into a higher class of society seemed likely to be realised.... He was, in fact, determined to try his fortune in Petersburg. He knew that women could do a very great deal. The fascination of a charming, virtuous, highly educated woman might make his way easier, might do wonders in attracting people to him, throwing an aureole round him, and now everything was in ruins! This sudden horrible rupture affected him like a clap of thunder; it was like a hideous joke, an absurdity. He had only been a tiny bit masterful, had not even time to speak out, had simply made a joke, been carried away—and it had ended so seriously. And, of course, too, he did love Dounia in his own way; he already possessed her in his dreams—and all at once! No! The next day, the very next day, it must all be set right, smoothed over, settled. Above all he must crush that conceited milksop who was the cause of it all. With a sick feeling he could not help recalling Razumihin too, but, he soon reassured himself on that score; as though a fellow like that could be put on a level with him! The man he really dreaded in earnest was Svidrigaïlov.... He had, in short, a great deal to attend to....

Dounia was absolutely essential to him. He could not imagine doing without her. For years he had indulged in sensual dreams of marriage, but he had kept waiting and saving money. In deep secrecy, he had savored the image of a girl: virtuous, poor (she must be poor), very young, very pretty, well born and educated, and very timid. She had suffered much and was completely humbled before him. All her life she would see him as her savior, worship him, and admire him and no one else. How many scenes and romantic episodes he had imagined on this seductive, playful theme after his work was done! And now his dream of so many years had almost come true. Avdotya Romanovna’s beauty and education had impressed him. Her helpless position had been a great attraction. In her, he had found even more than he had dreamed of. Here was a girl with pride, character, virtue, and an education and upbringing better than his own. He could feel that they were better. And she would be slavishly grateful all her life for his heroic condescension. She would humble herself in the dust before him, and he would have absolute, unlimited power over her!... Not long before, after much thought and hesitation, he had made an important change in his career. He was now entering a wider field of business. With this change, his cherished dreams of rising into a higher social class seemed likely to come true.... He was, in fact, determined to try his luck in Petersburg. He knew that women could do a great deal. The charm of a delightful, virtuous, highly educated woman might make his path easier. It might work wonders, drawing people to him and casting a glow around him. And now everything was in ruins! The sudden, dreadful break struck him like a clap of thunder. It was like a hideous joke, an absurdity. He had only been a tiny bit bossy. He had not even had time to speak his mind. He had simply made a joke, got carried away, and it had ended so seriously. And of course, he did love Dounia in his own way. He already possessed her in his dreams, and then, all at once! No! The next day, the very next day, everything must be put right, smoothed over, settled. Above all, he must crush that conceited weakling who had caused it all. He could not help remembering Razumihin too, with a sick feeling. But he soon reassured himself about him. As if a fellow like that could be compared with him! The man he truly feared was Svidrigaïlov.... In short, he had a great deal to attend to....

“No, I, I am more to blame than anyone!” said Dounia, kissing and embracing her mother. “I was tempted by his money, but on my honour, brother, I had no idea he was such a base man. If I had seen through him before, nothing would have tempted me! Don’t blame me, brother!”

“No, I, I’m more to blame than anyone!” said Dounia, kissing and hugging her mother. “I was tempted by his money, but I swear, brother, I had no idea he was such a terrible man. If I had seen what he was really like sooner, nothing would have tempted me! Don’t blame me, brother!”

“God has delivered us! God has delivered us!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna muttered, but half consciously, as though scarcely able to realise what had happened.

“God has saved us! God has saved us!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna murmured, only half aware, as if she could hardly grasp what had happened.

They were all relieved, and in five minutes they were laughing. Only now and then Dounia turned white and frowned, remembering what had passed. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was surprised to find that she, too, was glad: she had only that morning thought rupture with Luzhin a terrible misfortune. Razumihin was delighted. He did not yet dare to express his joy fully, but he was in a fever of excitement as though a ton-weight had fallen off his heart. Now he had the right to devote his life to them, to serve them.... Anything might happen now! But he felt afraid to think of further possibilities and dared not let his imagination range. But Raskolnikov sat still in the same place, almost sullen and indifferent. Though he had been the most insistent on getting rid of Luzhin, he seemed now the least concerned at what had happened. Dounia could not help thinking that he was still angry with her, and Pulcheria Alexandrovna watched him timidly.

They were all relieved, and within five minutes they were laughing. Only Dounia occasionally turned pale and frowned as she remembered what had happened. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was surprised to find that she, too, was glad. Only that morning, she had thought breaking with Luzhin would be a terrible misfortune. Razumihin was delighted. He did not yet dare to show his joy fully, but he was feverishly excited. It was as if a huge weight had lifted from his heart. Now he had the right to devote his life to them, to serve them.... Anything might happen now! But he was afraid to think of what else might be possible and dared not let his imagination wander. But Raskolnikov sat still in the same place, almost sullen and indifferent. Though he had been the most insistent on getting rid of Luzhin, he now seemed the least concerned about it. Dounia could not help thinking he was still angry with her, and Pulcheria Alexandrovna watched him timidly.

“What did Svidrigaïlov say to you?” said Dounia, approaching him.

“What did Svidrigaïlov say to you?” Dounia asked, walking toward him.

“Yes, yes!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Yes, yes!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

Raskolnikov raised his head.

Raskolnikov lifted his head.

“He wants to make you a present of ten thousand roubles and he desires to see you once in my presence.”

“He wants to give you ten thousand roubles as a gift, and he wants to see you once with me present.”

“See her! On no account!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “And how dare he offer her money!”

“See her! Absolutely not!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “And how dare he offer her money!”

Then Raskolnikov repeated (rather dryly) his conversation with Svidrigaïlov, omitting his account of the ghostly visitations of Marfa Petrovna, wishing to avoid all unnecessary talk.

Then Raskolnikov told them about his conversation with Svidrigaïlov, rather dryly. He left out Svidrigaïlov’s account of Marfa Petrovna’s ghostly visits, wanting to avoid all unnecessary talk.

“What answer did you give him?” asked Dounia.

“What did you say to him?” asked Dounia.

“At first I said I would not take any message to you. Then he said that he would do his utmost to obtain an interview with you without my help. He assured me that his passion for you was a passing infatuation, now he has no feeling for you. He doesn’t want you to marry Luzhin.... His talk was altogether rather muddled.”

“At first I said I wouldn't bring you any message. Then he said he would do everything he could to meet you without my help. He assured me that his passion for you had been a passing infatuation. He said he no longer had feelings for you. He doesn't want you to marry Luzhin.... What he said was rather confused overall.”

“How do you explain him to yourself, Rodya? How did he strike you?”

“How do you make sense of him, Rodya? What did you think of him?”

“I must confess I don’t quite understand him. He offers you ten thousand, and yet says he is not well off. He says he is going away, and in ten minutes he forgets he has said it. Then he says he is going to be married and has already fixed on the girl.... No doubt he has a motive, and probably a bad one. But it’s odd that he should be so clumsy about it if he had any designs against you.... Of course, I refused this money on your account, once for all. Altogether, I thought him very strange.... One might almost think he was mad. But I may be mistaken; that may only be the part he assumes. The death of Marfa Petrovna seems to have made a great impression on him.”

“I have to admit, I don’t quite understand him. He offers you ten thousand, yet says he isn’t well off. He says he’s going away, and ten minutes later he forgets he said it. Then he says he’s going to get married and has already chosen the girl.... No doubt he has a motive, and probably a bad one. But if he had any plans against you, it’s odd that he would be so clumsy about it.... Of course, I refused the money for your sake, once and for all. Overall, I thought him very strange.... One might almost think he was mad. But I may be wrong. He may only be pretending. Marfa Petrovna’s death seems to have affected him deeply.”

“God rest her soul,” exclaimed Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “I shall always, always pray for her! Where should we be now, Dounia, without this three thousand! It’s as though it had fallen from heaven! Why, Rodya, this morning we had only three roubles in our pocket and Dounia and I were just planning to pawn her watch, so as to avoid borrowing from that man until he offered help.”

“God rest her soul,” exclaimed Pulcheria Alexandrovna. “I’ll always, always pray for her! Where would we be now, Dounia, without these three thousand roubles? It’s as if the money had fallen from heaven! Rodya, this morning we had only three roubles in our pockets. Dounia and I were just planning to pawn her watch so we wouldn’t have to borrow from that man before he offered to help.”

Dounia seemed strangely impressed by Svidrigaïlov’s offer. She still stood meditating.

Dounia seemed strangely impressed by Svidrigaïlov’s offer. She stood there, still thinking.

“He has got some terrible plan,” she said in a half whisper to herself, almost shuddering.

“He has some terrible plan,” she whispered to herself, almost shuddering.

Raskolnikov noticed this disproportionate terror.

Raskolnikov noticed that the terror was out of proportion.

“I fancy I shall have to see him more than once again,” he said to Dounia.

“I think I'll have to see him more than once again,” he said to Dounia.

“We will watch him! I will track him out!” cried Razumihin, vigorously. “I won’t lose sight of him. Rodya has given me leave. He said to me himself just now, ‘Take care of my sister.’ Will you give me leave, too, Avdotya Romanovna?”

“We’ll watch him! I’ll track him down!” cried Razumihin energetically. “I won’t lose sight of him. Rodya gave me permission. He just said to me himself, ‘Take care of my sister.’ Will you give me permission too, Avdotya Romanovna?”

Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but the look of anxiety did not leave her face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna gazed at her timidly, but the three thousand roubles had obviously a soothing effect on her.

Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but she still looked anxious. Pulcheria Alexandrovna looked at her timidly, but the three thousand roubles had clearly reassured her.

A quarter of an hour later, they were all engaged in a lively conversation. Even Raskolnikov listened attentively for some time, though he did not talk. Razumihin was the speaker.

Fifteen minutes later, they were all having a lively conversation. Even Raskolnikov listened closely for a while, though he said nothing. Razumihin was doing the talking.

“And why, why should you go away?” he flowed on ecstatically. “And what are you to do in a little town? The great thing is, you are all here together and you need one another—you do need one another, believe me. For a time, anyway.... Take me into partnership, and I assure you we’ll plan a capital enterprise. Listen! I’ll explain it all in detail to you, the whole project! It all flashed into my head this morning, before anything had happened... I tell you what; I have an uncle, I must introduce him to you (a most accommodating and respectable old man). This uncle has got a capital of a thousand roubles, and he lives on his pension and has no need of that money. For the last two years he has been bothering me to borrow it from him and pay him six per cent interest. I know what that means; he simply wants to help me. Last year I had no need of it, but this year I resolved to borrow it as soon as he arrived. Then you lend me another thousand of your three and we have enough for a start, so we’ll go into partnership, and what are we going to do?”

“And why, why should you leave?” he went on ecstatically. “What would you do in a small town? The important thing is that you’re all here together, and you need one another. You really do, believe me. At least for a while.... Let me join you, and I promise we’ll plan a wonderful business venture. Listen! I’ll explain the whole plan to you in detail! It all came to me this morning, before anything had happened... I have an uncle I must introduce you to. He’s a very helpful and respectable old man. My uncle has a thousand roubles saved, but he lives on his pension and doesn’t need the money. For the past two years, he’s been urging me to borrow it and pay him six percent interest. I know what that means. He simply wants to help me. Last year I didn’t need the money. But this year I decided to borrow it as soon as he arrived. Then you lend me another thousand from your three thousand, and we’ll have enough to get started. So we’ll be partners, and what are we going to do?”

Then Razumihin began to unfold his project, and he explained at length that almost all our publishers and booksellers know nothing at all of what they are selling, and for that reason they are usually bad publishers, and that any decent publications pay as a rule and give a profit, sometimes a considerable one. Razumihin had, indeed, been dreaming of setting up as a publisher. For the last two years he had been working in publishers’ offices, and knew three European languages well, though he had told Raskolnikov six days before that he was “schwach” in German with an object of persuading him to take half his translation and half the payment for it. He had told a lie then, and Raskolnikov knew he was lying.

Then Razumihin began to explain his plan. He spoke at length about how almost all our publishers and booksellers know nothing about what they sell. That is why they are usually bad publishers. Decent publications, he said, generally pay for themselves and make a profit, sometimes a considerable one. Razumihin had indeed been dreaming of becoming a publisher. For the past two years, he had worked in publishers’ offices and had learned three European languages well. Yet six days earlier, he had told Raskolnikov that he was “schwach” in German. He had said this to persuade Raskolnikov to take on half his translation and receive half the payment. He had lied, and Raskolnikov knew it.

“Why, why should we let our chance slip when we have one of the chief means of success—money of our own!” cried Razumihin warmly. “Of course there will be a lot of work, but we will work, you, Avdotya Romanovna, I, Rodion.... You get a splendid profit on some books nowadays! And the great point of the business is that we shall know just what wants translating, and we shall be translating, publishing, learning all at once. I can be of use because I have experience. For nearly two years I’ve been scuttling about among the publishers, and now I know every detail of their business. You need not be a saint to make pots, believe me! And why, why should we let our chance slip! Why, I know—and I keep the secret—two or three books which one might get a hundred roubles simply for thinking of translating and publishing. Indeed, and I would not take five hundred for the very idea of one of them. And what do you think? If I were to tell a publisher, I dare say he’d hesitate—they are such blockheads! And as for the business side, printing, paper, selling, you trust to me, I know my way about. We’ll begin in a small way and go on to a large. In any case it will get us our living and we shall get back our capital.”

“Why, why should we let this chance slip away when we have one of the main things we need to succeed: money of our own!” Razumihin cried enthusiastically. “Of course there will be a lot of work, but we’ll do it. You, Avdotya Romanovna, and I, and Rodion.... Some books make a wonderful profit these days! And the main thing is that we’ll know exactly what needs translating. We’ll be translating, publishing, and learning all at once. I can help because I have experience. For nearly two years, I’ve been rushing around among publishers. Now I know every detail of their business. Believe me, you don’t have to be a saint to make pots! And why, why should we let this chance slip away! I know of two or three books, and I’m keeping them secret. Just for thinking of translating and publishing them, someone could earn a hundred roubles. In fact, I wouldn’t take five hundred for the idea of publishing one of them. And what do you think? If I told a publisher, I expect he’d hesitate. They’re such fools! As for the business side, the printing, paper, and selling, leave that to me. I know how it all works. We’ll start small and grow. In any case, it will earn us a living, and we’ll get back the money we put in.”

Dounia’s eyes shone.

Dounia’s eyes shone.

“I like what you are saying, Dmitri Prokofitch!” she said.

“I like what you're saying, Dmitri Prokofitch!” she said.

“I know nothing about it, of course,” put in Pulcheria Alexandrovna, “it may be a good idea, but again God knows. It’s new and untried. Of course, we must remain here at least for a time.” She looked at Rodya.

“Of course, I know nothing about it,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna added. “It may be a good idea, but God knows. It’s new and untried. Of course, we must stay here at least for a while.” She looked at Rodya.

“What do you think, brother?” said Dounia.

“What do you think, brother?” Dounia said.

“I think he’s got a very good idea,” he answered. “Of course, it’s too soon to dream of a publishing firm, but we certainly might bring out five or six books and be sure of success. I know of one book myself which would be sure to go well. And as for his being able to manage it, there’s no doubt about that either. He knows the business.... But we can talk it over later....”

“I think he has a very good idea,” he replied. “Of course, it’s too soon to dream of starting a publishing company. But we could certainly publish five or six books and be sure they’d succeed. I know of one book myself that would be sure to sell well. And there’s no doubt he could manage it. He knows the business.... But we can talk it over later....”

“Hurrah!” cried Razumihin. “Now, stay, there’s a flat here in this house, belonging to the same owner. It’s a special flat apart, not communicating with these lodgings. It’s furnished, rent moderate, three rooms. Suppose you take them to begin with. I’ll pawn your watch to-morrow and bring you the money, and everything can be arranged then. You can all three live together, and Rodya will be with you. But where are you off to, Rodya?”

“Hooray!” cried Razumihin. “Wait, there’s an apartment here in this building that belongs to the same owner. It’s separate and doesn’t connect to these rooms. It’s furnished, the rent is reasonable, and it has three rooms. Why don’t you take it for now? I’ll pawn your watch tomorrow and bring you the money. Then everything can be arranged. All three of you can live together, and Rodya will be with you. But where are you going, Rodya?”

“What, Rodya, you are going already?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked in dismay.

“Rodya, are you leaving already?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna asked in dismay.

“At such a minute?” cried Razumihin.

“At a time like this?” cried Razumihin.

Dounia looked at her brother with incredulous wonder. He held his cap in his hand, he was preparing to leave them.

Dounia looked at her brother in disbelief and wonder. He held his cap in his hand, preparing to leave them.

“One would think you were burying me or saying good-bye for ever,” he said somewhat oddly. He attempted to smile, but it did not turn out a smile. “But who knows, perhaps it is the last time we shall see each other...” he let slip accidentally. It was what he was thinking, and it somehow was uttered aloud.

“You’d think you were burying me or saying goodbye forever,” he said rather oddly. He tried to smile, but failed. “But who knows, perhaps this is the last time we’ll see each other...” he accidentally let slip. He had been thinking it, and somehow said it aloud.

“What is the matter with you?” cried his mother.

“What’s wrong with you?” cried his mother.

“Where are you going, Rodya?” asked Dounia rather strangely.

“Where are you going, Rodya?” Dounia asked rather strangely.

“Oh, I’m quite obliged to...” he answered vaguely, as though hesitating what he would say. But there was a look of sharp determination in his white face.

“Oh, I’m very grateful to...” he replied vaguely, as if unsure what to say. But his pale face showed sharp determination.

“I meant to say... as I was coming here... I meant to tell you, mother, and you, Dounia, that it would be better for us to part for a time. I feel ill, I am not at peace.... I will come afterwards, I will come of myself... when it’s possible. I remember you and love you.... Leave me, leave me alone. I decided this even before... I’m absolutely resolved on it. Whatever may come to me, whether I come to ruin or not, I want to be alone. Forget me altogether, it’s better. Don’t inquire about me. When I can, I’ll come of myself or... I’ll send for you. Perhaps it will all come back, but now if you love me, give me up... else I shall begin to hate you, I feel it.... Good-bye!”

“I meant to say... as I was coming here... I meant to tell you, mother, and you, Dounia, that it would be better for us to separate for a while. I feel ill. I have no peace.... I’ll come later, on my own... when I can. I remember you and love you.... Leave me, leave me alone. I decided this even before... I’m absolutely determined. Whatever happens to me, whether I ruin myself or not, I want to be alone. Forget me completely. It’s better that way. Don’t ask about me. When I can, I’ll come on my own or... I’ll send for you. Perhaps it will all come back, but for now, if you love me, let me go... otherwise I’ll start to hate you, I can feel it.... Goodbye!”

“Good God!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Both his mother and his sister were terribly alarmed. Razumihin was also.

“Good God!” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. His mother and sister were both terrified. Razumihin was too.

“Rodya, Rodya, be reconciled with us! Let us be as before!” cried his poor mother.

“Rodya, Rodya, make peace with us! Let us be as we were before!” cried his poor mother.

He turned slowly to the door and slowly went out of the room. Dounia overtook him.

He turned slowly toward the door and slowly left the room. Dounia caught up with him.

“Brother, what are you doing to mother?” she whispered, her eyes flashing with indignation.

“Brother, what are you doing to mother?” she whispered, her eyes flashing with anger.

He looked dully at her.

He looked at her blankly.

“No matter, I shall come.... I’m coming,” he muttered in an undertone, as though not fully conscious of what he was saying, and he went out of the room.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll come.... I’m coming,” he muttered quietly, as if not fully aware of what he was saying. Then he left the room.

“Wicked, heartless egoist!” cried Dounia.

“Wicked, heartless selfish person!” Dounia cried.

“He is insane, but not heartless. He is mad! Don’t you see it? You’re heartless after that!” Razumihin whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. “I shall be back directly,” he shouted to the horror-stricken mother, and he ran out of the room.

“He’s insane, but he’s not heartless. He’s mad! Can’t you see that? You’re heartless to say that!” Razumihin whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. “I’ll be right back,” he shouted to the horrified mother, and ran out of the room.

Raskolnikov was waiting for him at the end of the passage.

Raskolnikov was waiting for him at the end of the hallway.

“I knew you would run after me,” he said. “Go back to them—be with them... be with them to-morrow and always.... I... perhaps I shall come... if I can. Good-bye.”

“I knew you would run after me,” he said. “Go back to them. Be with them... be with them tomorrow and always.... I... perhaps I’ll come... if I can. Goodbye.”

And without holding out his hand he walked away.

And without offering his hand, he walked away.

“But where are you going? What are you doing? What’s the matter with you? How can you go on like this?” Razumihin muttered, at his wits’ end.

“But where are you going? What are you doing? What’s wrong with you? How can you keep going like this?” Razumihin muttered, not knowing what to do.

Raskolnikov stopped once more.

Raskolnikov stopped again.

“Once for all, never ask me about anything. I have nothing to tell you. Don’t come to see me. Maybe I’ll come here.... Leave me, but don’t leave them. Do you understand me?”

“Once and for all, never ask me about anything. I have nothing to tell you. Don’t come to see me. Maybe I’ll come here.... Leave me, but don’t leave them. Do you understand me?”

It was dark in the corridor, they were standing near the lamp. For a minute they were looking at one another in silence. Razumihin remembered that minute all his life. Raskolnikov’s burning and intent eyes grew more penetrating every moment, piercing into his soul, into his consciousness. Suddenly Razumihin started. Something strange, as it were, passed between them.... Some idea, some hint, as it were, slipped, something awful, hideous, and suddenly understood on both sides.... Razumihin turned pale.

The corridor was dark, and they stood near the lamp. For a minute, they looked at each other in silence. Razumihin remembered that minute all his life. Raskolnikov’s burning, intent eyes seemed to grow more penetrating every moment. They seemed to pierce Razumihin’s soul, his very consciousness. Suddenly, Razumihin started. It was as if something strange passed between them.... Some idea, some hint seemed to slip through. It was something awful, hideous, and suddenly understood by both of them.... Razumihin turned pale.

“Do you understand now?” said Raskolnikov, his face twitching nervously. “Go back, go to them,” he said suddenly, and turning quickly, he went out of the house.

“Do you understand now?” Raskolnikov asked, his face twitching nervously. “Go back, go to them,” he said suddenly. He turned quickly and left the house.

I will not attempt to describe how Razumihin went back to the ladies, how he soothed them, how he protested that Rodya needed rest in his illness, protested that Rodya was sure to come, that he would come every day, that he was very, very much upset, that he must not be irritated, that he, Razumihin, would watch over him, would get him a doctor, the best doctor, a consultation.... In fact from that evening Razumihin took his place with them as a son and a brother.

I will not try to describe how Razumihin returned to the ladies and soothed them. He insisted that Rodya needed rest while he was ill. He assured them that Rodya would come, that he would come every day. He said that Rodya was very, very upset and must not be irritated. Razumihin would look after him and get him a doctor, the best doctor, and a consultation.... In fact, from that evening on, Razumihin became like a son and brother to them.