Chapter 4

At that moment the door was softly opened, and a young girl walked into the room, looking timidly about her. Everyone turned towards her with surprise and curiosity. At first sight, Raskolnikov did not recognise her. It was Sofya Semyonovna Marmeladov. He had seen her yesterday for the first time, but at such a moment, in such surroundings and in such a dress, that his memory retained a very different image of her. Now she was a modestly and poorly-dressed young girl, very young, indeed, almost like a child, with a modest and refined manner, with a candid but somewhat frightened-looking face. She was wearing a very plain indoor dress, and had on a shabby old-fashioned hat, but she still carried a parasol. Unexpectedly finding the room full of people, she was not so much embarrassed as completely overwhelmed with shyness, like a little child. She was even about to retreat. “Oh... it’s you!” said Raskolnikov, extremely astonished, and he, too, was confused. He at once recollected that his mother and sister knew through Luzhin’s letter of “some young woman of notorious behaviour.” He had only just been protesting against Luzhin’s calumny and declaring that he had seen the girl last night for the first time, and suddenly she had walked in. He remembered, too, that he had not protested against the expression “of notorious behaviour.” All this passed vaguely and fleetingly through his brain, but looking at her more intently, he saw that the humiliated creature was so humiliated that he felt suddenly sorry for her. When she made a movement to retreat in terror, it sent a pang to his heart.

At that moment, the door opened softly, and a young girl entered the room, looking around timidly. Everyone turned toward her with surprise and curiosity. At first, Raskolnikov did not recognize her. It was Sofya Semyonovna Marmeladov. He had seen her for the first time yesterday. But the moment, the surroundings, and her dress had left him with a very different image of her. Now she was a modestly and poorly dressed girl, very young, almost like a child. She had a modest, refined manner and an open but somewhat frightened face. She wore a very plain indoor dress and a shabby, old-fashioned hat, but she still carried a parasol. She had not expected to find the room full of people. She was not so much embarrassed as completely overwhelmed with shyness, like a little child. She was even about to leave. “Oh... it’s you!” said Raskolnikov, astonished and confused himself. He immediately remembered that his mother and sister knew about “some young woman of notorious behaviour” from Luzhin’s letter. He had just protested against Luzhin’s slander and declared that he had met the girl for the first time last night. And suddenly she had walked in. He also remembered that he had not protested against the phrase “of notorious behaviour.” All this passed vaguely and quickly through his mind. But when he looked at her more closely, he saw how humiliated the poor creature was. He suddenly felt sorry for her. When she moved to leave in terror, he felt a pang in his heart.

“I did not expect you,” he said, hurriedly, with a look that made her stop. “Please sit down. You come, no doubt, from Katerina Ivanovna. Allow me—not there. Sit here....”

“I didn’t expect you,” he said hurriedly, giving her a look that made her stop. “Please sit down. You must have come from Katerina Ivanovna. Please, not there. Sit here....”

At Sonia’s entrance, Razumihin, who had been sitting on one of Raskolnikov’s three chairs, close to the door, got up to allow her to enter. Raskolnikov had at first shown her the place on the sofa where Zossimov had been sitting, but feeling that the sofa which served him as a bed, was too familiar a place, he hurriedly motioned her to Razumihin’s chair.

When Sonia entered, Razumihin got up to let her in. He had been sitting near the door on one of Raskolnikov’s three chairs. At first, Raskolnikov offered her the place on the sofa where Zossimov had been sitting. But the sofa was also his bed, and he felt it was too familiar a place for her. He quickly motioned her toward Razumihin’s chair instead.

“You sit here,” he said to Razumihin, putting him on the sofa.

“Sit here,” he said to Razumihin, putting him on the sofa.

Sonia sat down, almost shaking with terror, and looked timidly at the two ladies. It was evidently almost inconceivable to herself that she could sit down beside them. At the thought of it, she was so frightened that she hurriedly got up again, and in utter confusion addressed Raskolnikov.

Sonia sat down, almost trembling with fear, and looked timidly at the two ladies. She apparently found it almost impossible to believe she could sit beside them. The thought frightened her so much that she quickly stood up again. Completely flustered, she spoke to Raskolnikov.

“I... I... have come for one minute. Forgive me for disturbing you,” she began falteringly. “I come from Katerina Ivanovna, and she had no one to send. Katerina Ivanovna told me to beg you... to be at the service... in the morning... at the Mitrofanievsky... and then... to us... to her... to do her the honour... she told me to beg you...” Sonia stammered and ceased speaking.

“I... I... have only come for a minute. Sorry to disturb you,” she began hesitantly. “I come from Katerina Ivanovna. She had no one else to send. Katerina Ivanovna told me to beg you... to come to the service... in the morning... at the Mitrofanievsky... and then... to our place... to hers... to honor her by coming... she told me to beg you...” Sonia stammered and fell silent.

“I will try, certainly, most certainly,” answered Raskolnikov. He, too, stood up, and he, too, faltered and could not finish his sentence. “Please sit down,” he said, suddenly. “I want to talk to you. You are perhaps in a hurry, but please, be so kind, spare me two minutes,” and he drew up a chair for her.

“I’ll try, certainly, I certainly will,” Raskolnikov answered. He stood up too, and he too faltered and couldn’t finish his sentence. “Please sit down,” he said suddenly. “I want to talk to you. You may be in a hurry, but please, give me two minutes.” He pulled up a chair for her.

Sonia sat down again, and again timidly she took a hurried, frightened look at the two ladies, and dropped her eyes. Raskolnikov’s pale face flushed, a shudder passed over him, his eyes glowed.

Sonia sat down again and timidly glanced at the two ladies, then lowered her eyes. Raskolnikov’s pale face flushed. He shuddered, and his eyes glowed.

“Mother,” he said, firmly and insistently, “this is Sofya Semyonovna Marmeladov, the daughter of that unfortunate Mr. Marmeladov, who was run over yesterday before my eyes, and of whom I was just telling you.”

“Mother,” he said firmly and insistently, “this is Sofya Semyonovna Marmeladov. She is the daughter of that unfortunate Mr. Marmeladov, who was run over yesterday before my eyes. I was just telling you about him.”

Pulcheria Alexandrovna glanced at Sonia, and slightly screwed up her eyes. In spite of her embarrassment before Rodya’s urgent and challenging look, she could not deny herself that satisfaction. Dounia gazed gravely and intently into the poor girl’s face, and scrutinised her with perplexity. Sonia, hearing herself introduced, tried to raise her eyes again, but was more embarrassed than ever.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna glanced at Sonia and narrowed her eyes slightly. Rodya’s urgent, challenging look embarrassed her, but she could not deny herself that satisfaction. Dounia stared seriously and intently at the poor girl’s face, studying her with puzzlement. When Sonia heard herself being introduced, she tried to look up again, but felt more embarrassed than ever.

“I wanted to ask you,” said Raskolnikov, hastily, “how things were arranged yesterday. You were not worried by the police, for instance?”

“I wanted to ask you,” Raskolnikov said hurriedly, “how things were arranged yesterday. The police didn’t bother you, for example?”

“No, that was all right... it was too evident, the cause of death... they did not worry us... only the lodgers are angry.”

“No, that was all right... the cause of death was too obvious... they didn’t bother us... only the lodgers are angry.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“At the body’s remaining so long. You see it is hot now. So that, to-day, they will carry it to the cemetery, into the chapel, until to-morrow. At first Katerina Ivanovna was unwilling, but now she sees herself that it’s necessary...”

“At the body being kept here so long. You see, it’s hot now. So today they’ll take the body to the cemetery chapel, where it will stay until tomorrow. At first Katerina Ivanovna didn’t want that, but now she sees it’s necessary...”

“To-day, then?”

“Today, then?”

“She begs you to do us the honour to be in the church to-morrow for the service, and then to be present at the funeral lunch.”

“She asks you to honor us by attending the church service tomorrow, and then the funeral lunch.”

“She is giving a funeral lunch?”

“Is she hosting a funeral lunch?”

“Yes... just a little.... She told me to thank you very much for helping us yesterday. But for you, we should have had nothing for the funeral.”

“Yes... just a little.... She told me to thank you very much for helping us yesterday. Without you, we would have had nothing for the funeral.”

All at once her lips and chin began trembling, but, with an effort, she controlled herself, looking down again.

Suddenly, her lips and chin began to tremble. But she managed to control herself and looked down again.

During the conversation, Raskolnikov watched her carefully. She had a thin, very thin, pale little face, rather irregular and angular, with a sharp little nose and chin. She could not have been called pretty, but her blue eyes were so clear, and when they lighted up, there was such a kindliness and simplicity in her expression that one could not help being attracted. Her face, and her whole figure indeed, had another peculiar characteristic. In spite of her eighteen years, she looked almost a little girl—almost a child. And in some of her gestures, this childishness seemed almost absurd.

During the conversation, Raskolnikov watched her carefully. She had a thin, very thin, pale little face, somewhat irregular and angular, with a sharp little nose and chin. She could not be called pretty. But her blue eyes were so clear, and when they lit up, her expression was so kind and simple that one could not help being drawn to her. Her face, and indeed her whole figure, had another unusual quality. Although she was eighteen, she looked almost like a little girl, almost like a child. And in some of her gestures, this childishness seemed almost absurd.

“But has Katerina Ivanovna been able to manage with such small means? Does she even mean to have a funeral lunch?” Raskolnikov asked, persistently keeping up the conversation.

“But has Katerina Ivanovna managed with so little money? Does she even plan to have a funeral lunch?” Raskolnikov asked, determined to keep the conversation going.

“The coffin will be plain, of course... and everything will be plain, so it won’t cost much. Katerina Ivanovna and I have reckoned it all out, so that there will be enough left... and Katerina Ivanovna was very anxious it should be so. You know one can’t... it’s a comfort to her... she is like that, you know....”

“The coffin will be plain, of course... and everything else will be plain too, so it won’t cost much. Katerina Ivanovna and I have worked it all out, so there will be enough left... and Katerina Ivanovna was very anxious that there should be. You know one can’t... it’s a comfort to her... she’s like that, you know....”

“I understand, I understand... of course... why do you look at my room like that? My mother has just said it is like a tomb.”

“I understand, I understand... of course... why are you looking at my room like that? My mother just said it looks like a tomb.”

“You gave us everything yesterday,” Sonia said suddenly, in reply, in a loud rapid whisper; and again she looked down in confusion. Her lips and chin were trembling once more. She had been struck at once by Raskolnikov’s poor surroundings, and now these words broke out spontaneously. A silence followed. There was a light in Dounia’s eyes, and even Pulcheria Alexandrovna looked kindly at Sonia.

“You gave us everything yesterday,” Sonia suddenly replied in a loud, rapid whisper. Again, she looked down in confusion. Her lips and chin were trembling once more. She had noticed Raskolnikov’s poor surroundings at once, and now the words burst out of her. A silence followed. Dounia’s eyes lit up, and even Pulcheria Alexandrovna looked kindly at Sonia.

“Rodya,” she said, getting up, “we shall have dinner together, of course. Come, Dounia.... And you, Rodya, had better go for a little walk, and then rest and lie down before you come to see us.... I am afraid we have exhausted you....”

“Rodya,” she said, getting up, “we’ll have dinner together, of course. Come, Dounia.... And Rodya, you should go for a short walk. Then rest and lie down before you come to see us.... I’m afraid we’ve worn you out....”

“Yes, yes, I’ll come,” he answered, getting up fussily. “But I have something to see to.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll come,” he replied, getting up in a fluster. “But I have something to take care of.”

“But surely you will have dinner together?” cried Razumihin, looking in surprise at Raskolnikov. “What do you mean?”

“But you’re having dinner together, aren’t you?” Razumihin exclaimed, looking at Raskolnikov in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, yes, I am coming... of course, of course! And you stay a minute. You do not want him just now, do you, mother? Or perhaps I am taking him from you?”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming... of course, of course! And you stay a minute. You don’t need him right now, do you, mother? Or perhaps I’m taking him away from you?”

“Oh, no, no. And will you, Dmitri Prokofitch, do us the favour of dining with us?”

“Oh, no, no. And Dmitri Prokofitch, would you please have dinner with us?”

“Please do,” added Dounia.

“Please do,” added Dounia.

Razumihin bowed, positively radiant. For one moment, they were all strangely embarrassed.

Razumihin bowed, beaming with joy. For a moment, they were all strangely embarrassed.

“Good-bye, Rodya, that is till we meet. I do not like saying good-bye. Good-bye, Nastasya. Ah, I have said good-bye again.”

“Goodbye, Rodya. I mean, until we meet again. I don't like saying goodbye. Goodbye, Nastasya. Ah, I've said goodbye again.”

Pulcheria Alexandrovna meant to greet Sonia, too; but it somehow failed to come off, and she went in a flutter out of the room.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna meant to greet Sonia too, but somehow never did. Instead, she hurried out of the room, flustered.

But Avdotya Romanovna seemed to await her turn, and following her mother out, gave Sonia an attentive, courteous bow. Sonia, in confusion, gave a hurried, frightened curtsy. There was a look of poignant discomfort in her face, as though Avdotya Romanovna’s courtesy and attention were oppressive and painful to her.

But Avdotya Romanovna seemed to wait her turn. As she followed her mother out, she gave Sonia an attentive, polite bow. Confused, Sonia gave a quick, frightened curtsy. Her face showed deep discomfort, as if Avdotya Romanovna’s courtesy and attention were oppressive and painful to her.

“Dounia, good-bye,” called Raskolnikov, in the passage. “Give me your hand.”

“Dounia, goodbye,” Raskolnikov called from the hallway. “Give me your hand.”

“Why, I did give it you. Have you forgotten?” said Dounia, turning warmly and awkwardly to him.

“But I did give it to you. Have you forgotten?” Dounia said, turning to him warmly and awkwardly.

“Never mind, give it to me again.” And he squeezed her fingers warmly.

“Never mind, give it to me again.” He squeezed her fingers warmly.

Dounia smiled, flushed, pulled her hand away, and went off quite happy.

Dounia smiled, blushed, pulled her hand away, and left feeling quite happy.

“Come, that’s capital,” he said to Sonia, going back and looking brightly at her. “God give peace to the dead, the living have still to live. That is right, isn’t it?”

“Come on, that’s great,” he said, turning back to Sonia and looking at her cheerfully. “May God give peace to the dead. The living still have to live. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Sonia looked surprised at the sudden brightness of his face. He looked at her for some moments in silence. The whole history of the dead father floated before his memory in those moments....

Sonia was surprised by how suddenly his face brightened. He looked at her silently for a few moments. During those moments, the dead father's whole story came back to him....

“Heavens, Dounia,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, as soon as they were in the street, “I really feel relieved myself at coming away—more at ease. How little did I think yesterday in the train that I could ever be glad of that.”

“Heavens, Dounia,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began as soon as they were in the street, “I really feel relieved to have left. I feel more at ease. Yesterday on the train, I never imagined I could be glad to leave.”

“I tell you again, mother, he is still very ill. Don’t you see it? Perhaps worrying about us upset him. We must be patient, and much, much can be forgiven.”

“I’m telling you again, Mother, he’s still very ill. Can’t you see that? Maybe worrying about us upset him. We must be patient, and we can forgive a great deal.”

“Well, you were not very patient!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna caught her up, hotly and jealously. “Do you know, Dounia, I was looking at you two. You are the very portrait of him, and not so much in face as in soul. You are both melancholy, both morose and hot-tempered, both haughty and both generous.... Surely he can’t be an egoist, Dounia. Eh? When I think of what is in store for us this evening, my heart sinks!”

“Well, you weren’t very patient!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna interrupted her, heatedly and jealously. “You know, Dounia, I was looking at the two of you. You’re just like him, more in spirit than in appearance. You’re both gloomy, bad-tempered, proud, and generous.... Surely he can’t be selfish, Dounia. Can he? When I think of what awaits us this evening, my heart sinks!”

“Don’t be uneasy, mother. What must be, will be.”

“Don’t worry, mother. What has to happen will happen.”

“Dounia, only think what a position we are in! What if Pyotr Petrovitch breaks it off?” poor Pulcheria Alexandrovna blurted out, incautiously.

“Dounia, just think what a situation we're in! What if Pyotr Petrovitch calls it off?” poor Pulcheria Alexandrovna blurted out without thinking.

“He won’t be worth much if he does,” answered Dounia, sharply and contemptuously.

“He won’t be worth much if he does,” Dounia replied sharply and contemptuously.

“We did well to come away,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna hurriedly broke in. “He was in a hurry about some business or other. If he gets out and has a breath of air... it is fearfully close in his room.... But where is one to get a breath of air here? The very streets here feel like shut-up rooms. Good heavens! what a town!... stay... this side... they will crush you—carrying something. Why, it is a piano they have got, I declare... how they push!... I am very much afraid of that young woman, too.”

“We were right to leave,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna hurriedly interrupted. “He had some business to attend to. If he gets out and has some fresh air... his room is terribly stuffy.... But where can anyone get fresh air here? Even the streets feel like closed rooms. Good heavens! What a city!... Wait... this way... they’ll crush you. They’re carrying something. Why, it’s a piano, I do believe... how they push!... I’m very afraid of that young woman, too.”

“What young woman, mother?”

“What young woman, Mom?”

“Why, that Sofya Semyonovna, who was there just now.”

“Why, Sofya Semyonovna, who was here just now.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“I have a presentiment, Dounia. Well, you may believe it or not, but as soon as she came in, that very minute, I felt that she was the chief cause of the trouble....”

“I have a feeling, Dounia. You may believe it or not, but the moment she came in, I felt she was the main cause of the trouble....”

“Nothing of the sort!” cried Dounia, in vexation. “What nonsense, with your presentiments, mother! He only made her acquaintance the evening before, and he did not know her when she came in.”

“Nothing like that!” cried Dounia, annoyed. “What nonsense, mother, with your premonitions! He only met her the evening before, and he didn't recognize her when she came in.”

“Well, you will see.... She worries me; but you will see, you will see! I was so frightened. She was gazing at me with those eyes. I could scarcely sit still in my chair when he began introducing her, do you remember? It seems so strange, but Pyotr Petrovitch writes like that about her, and he introduces her to us—to you! So he must think a great deal of her.”

“Well, you’ll see.... She worries me, but you’ll see, you’ll see! I was so frightened. She was staring at me with those eyes. I could hardly sit still when he began introducing her. Do you remember? It seems so strange. Pyotr Petrovitch writes about her like that, yet he introduces her to us, to you! So he must think very highly of her.”

“People will write anything. We were talked about and written about, too. Have you forgotten? I am sure that she is a good girl, and that it is all nonsense.”

“People will write anything. People talked and wrote about us, too. Have you forgotten? I’m sure she’s a good girl and that it’s all nonsense.”

“God grant it may be!”

“God grant that it may be so!”

“And Pyotr Petrovitch is a contemptible slanderer,” Dounia snapped out, suddenly.

“And Pyotr Petrovitch is a despicable liar who spreads false rumors,” Dounia snapped suddenly.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna was crushed; the conversation was not resumed.

Pulcheria Alexandrovna was crushed. The conversation did not resume.

“I will tell you what I want with you,” said Raskolnikov, drawing Razumihin to the window.

“I’ll tell you what I want with you,” said Raskolnikov, pulling Razumihin toward the window.

“Then I will tell Katerina Ivanovna that you are coming,” Sonia said hurriedly, preparing to depart.

“Then I'll tell Katerina Ivanovna you're coming,” Sonia said hurriedly, preparing to leave.

“One minute, Sofya Semyonovna. We have no secrets. You are not in our way. I want to have another word or two with you. Listen!” he turned suddenly to Razumihin again. “You know that... what’s his name... Porfiry Petrovitch?”

“One moment, Sofya Semyonovna. We have no secrets. You’re not in our way. I want to say a few more words to you. Listen!” He suddenly turned back to Razumihin. “You know that... what’s his name... Porfiry Petrovitch?”

“I should think so! He is a relation. Why?” added the latter, with interest.

“Of course! He’s a relative. Why?” the other person asked with interest.

“Is not he managing that case... you know, about that murder?... You were speaking about it yesterday.”

“Isn’t he handling that case... you know, the murder case?... You were talking about it yesterday.”

“Yes... well?” Razumihin’s eyes opened wide.

“Yes... well?” Razumihin’s eyes widened.

“He was inquiring for people who had pawned things, and I have some pledges there, too—trifles—a ring my sister gave me as a keepsake when I left home, and my father’s silver watch—they are only worth five or six roubles altogether... but I value them. So what am I to do now? I do not want to lose the things, especially the watch. I was quaking just now, for fear mother would ask to look at it, when we spoke of Dounia’s watch. It is the only thing of father’s left us. She would be ill if it were lost. You know what women are. So tell me what to do. I know I ought to have given notice at the police station, but would it not be better to go straight to Porfiry? Eh? What do you think? The matter might be settled more quickly. You see, mother may ask for it before dinner.”

“He was asking about people who had pawned things, and I have some things there too. They’re just trifles: a ring my sister gave me as a keepsake when I left home, and my father’s silver watch. They’re worth only five or six roubles altogether... but I value them. So what am I supposed to do now? I don’t want to lose them, especially the watch. When we spoke of Dounia’s watch just now, I was trembling, afraid mother would ask to see mine. It’s the only thing of father’s we have left. She would be ill if it were lost. You know what women are. So tell me what to do. I know I should have reported it at the police station, but wouldn’t it be better to go straight to Porfiry? Eh? What do you think? The matter might be settled more quickly. You see, mother may ask for the watch before dinner.”

“Certainly not to the police station. Certainly to Porfiry,” Razumihin shouted in extraordinary excitement. “Well, how glad I am. Let us go at once. It is a couple of steps. We shall be sure to find him.”

“Definitely not to the police station. Definitely to Porfiry,” Razumihin shouted, extremely excited. “Oh, I’m so glad. Let’s go right away. It’s just a few steps away. We’re sure to find him.”

“Very well, let us go.”

“All right, let’s go.”

“And he will be very, very glad to make your acquaintance. I have often talked to him of you at different times. I was speaking of you yesterday. Let us go. So you knew the old woman? So that’s it! It is all turning out splendidly.... Oh, yes, Sofya Ivanovna...”

“And he’ll be very, very glad to meet you. I’ve often told him about you. I was talking about you yesterday. Let’s go. So you knew the old woman? So that’s it! Everything is turning out splendidly.... Oh, yes, Sofya Ivanovna...”

“Sofya Semyonovna,” corrected Raskolnikov. “Sofya Semyonovna, this is my friend Razumihin, and he is a good man.”

“Sofya Semyonovna,” Raskolnikov corrected him. “Sofya Semyonovna, this is my friend Razumihin. He is a good man.”

“If you have to go now,” Sonia was beginning, not looking at Razumihin at all, and still more embarrassed.

“If you have to go now,” Sonia began. She did not look at Razumihin and felt even more embarrassed.

“Let us go,” decided Raskolnikov. “I will come to you to-day, Sofya Semyonovna. Only tell me where you live.”

“Let's go,” Raskolnikov decided. “I'll come to see you today, Sofya Semyonovna. Just tell me where you live.”

He was not exactly ill at ease, but seemed hurried, and avoided her eyes. Sonia gave her address, and flushed as she did so. They all went out together.

He wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but he seemed rushed and avoided her eyes. Sonia gave her address and blushed as she did. They all went out together.

“Don’t you lock up?” asked Razumihin, following him on to the stairs.

“Don’t you lock up?” Razumihin asked, following him onto the stairs.

“Never,” answered Raskolnikov. “I have been meaning to buy a lock for these two years. People are happy who have no need of locks,” he said, laughing, to Sonia. They stood still in the gateway.

“Never,” Raskolnikov replied. “I’ve been meaning to buy a lock for two years. People who don’t need locks are lucky,” he said to Sonia, laughing. They stood still in the gateway.

“Do you go to the right, Sofya Semyonovna? How did you find me, by the way?” he added, as though he wanted to say something quite different. He wanted to look at her soft clear eyes, but this was not easy.

“Are you going to the right, Sofya Semyonovna? How did you find me, by the way?” he added, as if he wanted to say something quite different. He wanted to look into her soft, clear eyes, but it was not easy.

“Why, you gave your address to Polenka yesterday.”

“But you gave your address to Polenka yesterday.”

“Polenka? Oh, yes; Polenka, that is the little girl. She is your sister? Did I give her the address?”

“Polenka? Oh, yes, Polenka is the little girl. Is she your sister? Did I give her the address?”

“Why, had you forgotten?”

“Oh, had you forgotten?”

“No, I remember.”

“No, I remember.”

“I had heard my father speak of you... only I did not know your name, and he did not know it. And now I came... and as I had learnt your name, I asked to-day, ‘Where does Mr. Raskolnikov live?’ I did not know you had only a room too.... Good-bye, I will tell Katerina Ivanovna.”

“I had heard my father talk about you... but I didn’t know your name, and neither did he. And now I came... and since I had learned your name, I asked today, ‘Where does Mr. Raskolnikov live?’ I didn’t know you only had a room too.... Goodbye, I’ll tell Katerina Ivanovna.”

She was extremely glad to escape at last; she went away looking down, hurrying to get out of sight as soon as possible, to walk the twenty steps to the turning on the right and to be at last alone, and then moving rapidly along, looking at no one, noticing nothing, to think, to remember, to meditate on every word, every detail. Never, never had she felt anything like this. Dimly and unconsciously a whole new world was opening before her. She remembered suddenly that Raskolnikov meant to come to her that day, perhaps that morning perhaps at once!

She was so glad to escape at last. She hurried away, looking down, eager to get out of sight. She wanted to walk the twenty steps to the turn on the right and finally be alone. Then she could hurry along, looking at no one and noticing nothing. She could think, remember, and reflect on every word and every detail. Never, never had she felt anything like this. A whole new world was opening before her, though she was only dimly aware of it. Suddenly, she remembered that Raskolnikov meant to come to her that day, perhaps that morning, perhaps at once!

“Only not to-day, please, not to-day!” she kept muttering with a sinking heart, as though entreating someone, like a frightened child. “Mercy! to me... to that room... he will see... oh, dear!”

“Just not today, please, not today!” she kept muttering, her heart sinking. She sounded like a frightened child pleading with someone. “Mercy! To me... to that room... he’ll see... oh, dear!”

She was not capable at that instant of noticing an unknown gentleman who was watching her and following at her heels. He had accompanied her from the gateway. At the moment when Razumihin, Raskolnikov, and she stood still at parting on the pavement, this gentleman, who was just passing, started on hearing Sonia’s words: “and I asked where Mr. Raskolnikov lived?” He turned a rapid but attentive look upon all three, especially upon Raskolnikov, to whom Sonia was speaking; then looked back and noted the house. All this was done in an instant as he passed, and trying not to betray his interest, he walked on more slowly as though waiting for something. He was waiting for Sonia; he saw that they were parting, and that Sonia was going home.

At that moment, she was unable to notice a stranger watching her and following close behind. He had followed her from the gateway. Razumihin, Raskolnikov, and Sonia stopped on the sidewalk to say goodbye. Just then, the gentleman was passing by. He started when he heard Sonia say, “and I asked where Mr. Raskolnikov lived?” He gave all three a quick but careful look, especially Raskolnikov, to whom Sonia was speaking. Then he looked back and took note of the house. He did all this in an instant as he passed. Trying not to show his interest, he walked on more slowly, as if waiting for something. He was waiting for Sonia. He saw that they were saying goodbye and that she was going home.

“Home? Where? I’ve seen that face somewhere,” he thought. “I must find out.”

“Home? Where? I’ve seen that face somewhere,” he thought. “I need to find out.”

At the turning he crossed over, looked round, and saw Sonia coming the same way, noticing nothing. She turned the corner. He followed her on the other side. After about fifty paces he crossed over again, overtook her and kept two or three yards behind her.

At the corner, he crossed the street and looked around. He saw Sonia coming the same way, noticing nothing. She turned the corner. He followed her from the other side of the street. After about fifty paces, he crossed over again and caught up with her. He stayed two or three yards behind her.

He was a man about fifty, rather tall and thickly set, with broad high shoulders which made him look as though he stooped a little. He wore good and fashionable clothes, and looked like a gentleman of position. He carried a handsome cane, which he tapped on the pavement at each step; his gloves were spotless. He had a broad, rather pleasant face with high cheek-bones and a fresh colour, not often seen in Petersburg. His flaxen hair was still abundant, and only touched here and there with grey, and his thick square beard was even lighter than his hair. His eyes were blue and had a cold and thoughtful look; his lips were crimson. He was a remarkably well-preserved man and looked much younger than his years.

He was about fifty, fairly tall and solidly built. His broad, high shoulders made him look slightly stooped. He wore fine, fashionable clothes and looked like a man of standing. He carried a handsome cane and tapped it on the pavement with each step. His gloves were spotless. His broad face was fairly pleasant, with high cheekbones and a healthy color rarely seen in Petersburg. His flaxen hair was still thick, with only a few touches of gray. His thick, square beard was even lighter than his hair. His eyes were blue and had a cold, thoughtful look. His lips were crimson. He had aged remarkably well and looked much younger than he was.

When Sonia came out on the canal bank, they were the only two persons on the pavement. He observed her dreaminess and preoccupation. On reaching the house where she lodged, Sonia turned in at the gate; he followed her, seeming rather surprised. In the courtyard she turned to the right corner. “Bah!” muttered the unknown gentleman, and mounted the stairs behind her. Only then Sonia noticed him. She reached the third storey, turned down the passage, and rang at No. 9. On the door was inscribed in chalk, “Kapernaumov, Tailor.” “Bah!” the stranger repeated again, wondering at the strange coincidence, and he rang next door, at No. 8. The doors were two or three yards apart.

When Sonia came out onto the canal bank, she and the man were the only two people on the sidewalk. He noticed that she seemed lost in thought and distracted. When Sonia reached the house where she was staying, she went through the gate. He followed her, looking rather surprised. In the courtyard, she turned toward the right corner. “Bah!” muttered the stranger, and he followed her up the stairs. Only then did Sonia notice him. She reached the third floor, turned down the hall, and rang the bell at No. 9. Written in chalk on the door was “Kapernaumov, Tailor.” “Bah!” the stranger said again, surprised by the strange coincidence. He rang the bell next door, at No. 8. The doors were two or three yards apart.

“You lodge at Kapernaumov’s,” he said, looking at Sonia and laughing. “He altered a waistcoat for me yesterday. I am staying close here at Madame Resslich’s. How odd!” Sonia looked at him attentively.

“You’re staying at Kapernaumov’s,” he said, looking at Sonia and laughing. “He altered a vest for me yesterday. I’m staying nearby at Madame Resslich’s. How strange!” Sonia looked at him closely.

“We are neighbours,” he went on gaily. “I only came to town the day before yesterday. Good-bye for the present.”

“We’re neighbors,” he continued cheerfully. “I only arrived in town the day before yesterday. Goodbye for now.”

Sonia made no reply; the door opened and she slipped in. She felt for some reason ashamed and uneasy.

Sonia said nothing. The door opened, and she slipped in. For some reason, she felt ashamed and uneasy.

On the way to Porfiry’s, Razumihin was obviously excited.

On the way to Porfiry’s, Razumihin was clearly excited.

“That’s capital, brother,” he repeated several times, “and I am glad! I am glad!”

“That’s great, brother,” he repeated several times, “and I’m glad! I’m glad!”

“What are you glad about?” Raskolnikov thought to himself.

“What are you glad about?” Raskolnikov thought.

“I didn’t know that you pledged things at that old woman’s, too. And... and was it long ago? I mean, was it long since you were there?”

“I didn’t know you pawned things at that old woman’s place too. And... and was it long ago? I mean, has it been long since you were there?”

“What a simple-hearted fool he is!”

“What a trusting fool he is!”

“When was it?” Raskolnikov stopped still to recollect. “Two or three days before her death it must have been. But I am not going to redeem the things now,” he put in with a sort of hurried and conspicuous solicitude about the things. “I’ve not more than a silver rouble left... after last night’s accursed delirium!”

“When was it?” Raskolnikov stopped to remember. “It must have been two or three days before her death. But I’m not going to redeem the things now,” he added, with a sudden, noticeable concern for them. “I have no more than one silver rouble left... after last night’s damned delirium!”

He laid special emphasis on the delirium.

He put special emphasis on the delirium.

“Yes, yes,” Razumihin hastened to agree—with what was not clear. “Then that’s why you... were struck... partly... you know in your delirium you were continually mentioning some rings or chains! Yes, yes... that’s clear, it’s all clear now.”

“Yes, yes,” Razumihin quickly agreed. It wasn’t clear what he was agreeing to. “So that’s why you... were struck... partly... You know, you kept mentioning some rings or chains while you were delirious! Yes, yes... that’s clear. It’s all clear now.”

“Hullo! How that idea must have got about among them. Here this man will go to the stake for me, and I find him delighted at having it cleared up why I spoke of rings in my delirium! What a hold the idea must have on all of them!”

“Hey! That idea must have spread among them. This man would go to the stake for me. Yet I find him delighted that it’s been cleared up why I spoke of rings in my delirium! That idea must have a powerful hold on all of them!”

“Shall we find him?” he asked suddenly.

“Will we find him?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh, yes,” Razumihin answered quickly. “He is a nice fellow, you will see, brother. Rather clumsy, that is to say, he is a man of polished manners, but I mean clumsy in a different sense. He is an intelligent fellow, very much so indeed, but he has his own range of ideas.... He is incredulous, sceptical, cynical... he likes to impose on people, or rather to make fun of them. His is the old, circumstantial method.... But he understands his work... thoroughly.... Last year he cleared up a case of murder in which the police had hardly a clue. He is very, very anxious to make your acquaintance!”

“Oh, yes,” Razumihin replied quickly. “He’s a nice fellow, you’ll see, brother. Rather clumsy, that is, he has polished manners, but I mean clumsy in a different way. He’s very intelligent indeed, but he has his own set of ideas.... He’s disbelieving, skeptical, cynical... he likes to trick people, or rather, make fun of them. He uses the old method of relying on circumstantial evidence.... But he knows his work... thoroughly.... Last year he solved a murder case when the police had hardly a clue. He’s very, very eager to meet you!”

“On what grounds is he so anxious?”

“Why is he so anxious?”

“Oh, it’s not exactly... you see, since you’ve been ill I happen to have mentioned you several times.... So, when he heard about you... about your being a law student and not able to finish your studies, he said, ‘What a pity!’ And so I concluded... from everything together, not only that; yesterday Zametov... you know, Rodya, I talked some nonsense on the way home to you yesterday, when I was drunk... I am afraid, brother, of your exaggerating it, you see.”

“Oh, it’s not exactly... you see, I’ve mentioned you several times since you’ve been ill.... So, when he heard about you... about how you were a law student and couldn’t finish your studies, he said, ‘What a pity!’ And so I concluded... from everything together, not just that. Yesterday Zametov... you know, Rodya, I talked some nonsense to you on the way home yesterday, when I was drunk... I’m afraid you’ll exaggerate it, brother, you see.”

“What? That they think I am a madman? Maybe they are right,” he said with a constrained smile.

“What? That they think I’m crazy? Maybe they’re right,” he said with a forced smile.

“Yes, yes.... That is, pooh, no!... But all that I said (and there was something else too) it was all nonsense, drunken nonsense.”

“Yes, yes.... I mean, oh, no!... But everything I said, and there was something else too, was nonsense. Drunken nonsense.”

“But why are you apologising? I am so sick of it all!” Raskolnikov cried with exaggerated irritability. It was partly assumed, however.

“But why are you apologizing? I’m so sick of it all!” Raskolnikov cried, sounding more irritated than he really was. But he was partly pretending.

“I know, I know, I understand. Believe me, I understand. One’s ashamed to speak of it.”

“I know, I know, I understand. Believe me, I understand. It’s embarrassing to talk about it.”

“If you are ashamed, then don’t speak of it.”

“If you’re ashamed, then don’t talk about it.”

Both were silent. Razumihin was more than ecstatic and Raskolnikov perceived it with repulsion. He was alarmed, too, by what Razumihin had just said about Porfiry.

Both were silent. Razumihin was beyond ecstatic, and Raskolnikov felt disgusted by it. He was also alarmed by what Razumihin had just said about Porfiry.

“I shall have to pull a long face with him too,” he thought, with a beating heart, and he turned white, “and do it naturally, too. But the most natural thing would be to do nothing at all. Carefully do nothing at all! No, carefully would not be natural again.... Oh, well, we shall see how it turns out.... We shall see... directly. Is it a good thing to go or not? The butterfly flies to the light. My heart is beating, that’s what’s bad!”

“I’ll have to put on a sad face with him too,” he thought, his heart pounding as he turned pale. “And I’ll have to make it look natural. But the most natural thing would be to do nothing at all. Carefully do nothing at all! No, carefully wouldn’t be natural either.... Oh, well, we’ll see how it turns out.... We’ll see... in a moment. Is it a good idea to go or not? The butterfly flies to the light. My heart is pounding. That’s what’s bad!”

“In this grey house,” said Razumihin.

“In this gray house,” said Razumihin.

“The most important thing, does Porfiry know that I was at the old hag’s flat yesterday... and asked about the blood? I must find that out instantly, as soon as I go in, find out from his face; otherwise... I’ll find out, if it’s my ruin.”

“The most important thing is whether Porfiry knows I was at the old hag’s apartment yesterday... and asked about the blood. I must find out the moment I go in. I’ll look at his face. Otherwise... I’ll find out, even if it ruins me.”

“I say, brother,” he said suddenly, addressing Razumihin, with a sly smile, “I have been noticing all day that you seem to be curiously excited. Isn’t it so?”

“Hey, brother,” he suddenly said to Razumihin with a sly smile, “I’ve noticed all day that you seem unusually excited. Don’t you think so?”

“Excited? Not a bit of it,” said Razumihin, stung to the quick.

“Excited? Not at all,” said Razumihin, deeply offended.

“Yes, brother, I assure you it’s noticeable. Why, you sat on your chair in a way you never do sit, on the edge somehow, and you seemed to be writhing all the time. You kept jumping up for nothing. One moment you were angry, and the next your face looked like a sweetmeat. You even blushed; especially when you were invited to dinner, you blushed awfully.”

“Yes, brother, I assure you it shows. You sat on the edge of your chair, which you never do. You seemed to be squirming the whole time. You kept jumping up for no reason. One moment you were angry, and the next your face looked sweet as candy. You even blushed. You blushed terribly, especially when you were invited to dinner.”

“Nothing of the sort, nonsense! What do you mean?”

“Not at all, that's nonsense! What do you mean?”

“But why are you wriggling out of it, like a schoolboy? By Jove, there he’s blushing again.”

“But why are you trying to get out of it like a schoolboy? Good grief, he’s blushing again.”

“What a pig you are!”

“What a pig you are!”

“But why are you so shamefaced about it? Romeo! Stay, I’ll tell of you to-day. Ha-ha-ha! I’ll make mother laugh, and someone else, too...”

“But why are you so embarrassed about it? Romeo! Just wait, I’ll tell on you today. Ha-ha-ha! I’ll make mother laugh, and someone else, too...”

“Listen, listen, listen, this is serious.... What next, you fiend!” Razumihin was utterly overwhelmed, turning cold with horror. “What will you tell them? Come, brother... foo! what a pig you are!”

“Listen, listen, listen, this is serious.... What next, you devil!” Razumihin was overwhelmed. He went cold with horror. “What will you tell them? Come on, brother... ugh! What a pig you are!”

“You are like a summer rose. And if only you knew how it suits you; a Romeo over six foot high! And how you’ve washed to-day—you cleaned your nails, I declare. Eh? That’s something unheard of! Why, I do believe you’ve got pomatum on your hair! Bend down.”

“You look like a summer rose. If only you knew how well it suits you! A Romeo over six feet tall! And look how thoroughly you’ve washed today. You’ve even cleaned your nails, I swear. Eh? That’s unheard of! Why, I do believe you’ve put hair pomade on! Bend down.”

“Pig!”

“Pig!”

Raskolnikov laughed as though he could not restrain himself. So laughing, they entered Porfiry Petrovitch’s flat. This is what Raskolnikov wanted: from within they could be heard laughing as they came in, still guffawing in the passage.

Raskolnikov laughed as if he couldn't help himself. Still laughing, they entered Porfiry Petrovitch’s flat. This was what Raskolnikov wanted. People inside could hear them laughing as they came in, still laughing loudly in the hallway.

“Not a word here or I’ll... brain you!” Razumihin whispered furiously, seizing Raskolnikov by the shoulder.

“Not a word here or I’ll... smash your head in!” Razumihin whispered furiously, grabbing Raskolnikov by the shoulder.