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- Федор Достоевский
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- Стр. 108/453
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Luzhin
shrugged
his
shoulders
.
“
Your
mamma
had
commenced
a
letter
to
you
while
I
was
sojourning
in
her
neighbourhood
.
On
my
arrival
here
I
purposely
allowed
a
few
days
to
elapse
before
coming
to
see
you
,
in
order
that
I
might
be
fully
assured
that
you
were
in
full
possession
of
the
tidings
;
but
now
,
to
my
astonishment
.
.
.
”
“
I
know
,
I
know
!
”
Raskolnikov
cried
suddenly
with
impatient
vexation
.
“
So
you
are
the
fiancé
?
I
know
,
and
that
’
s
enough
!
”
There
was
no
doubt
about
Pyotr
Petrovitch
’
s
being
offended
this
time
,
but
he
said
nothing
.
He
made
a
violent
effort
to
understand
what
it
all
meant
.
There
was
a
moment
’
s
silence
.
Meanwhile
Raskolnikov
,
who
had
turned
a
little
towards
him
when
he
answered
,
began
suddenly
staring
at
him
again
with
marked
curiosity
,
as
though
he
had
not
had
a
good
look
at
him
yet
,
or
as
though
something
new
had
struck
him
;
he
rose
from
his
pillow
on
purpose
to
stare
at
him
.
There
certainly
was
something
peculiar
in
Pyotr
Petrovitch
’
s
whole
appearance
,
something
which
seemed
to
justify
the
title
of
“
fiancé
”
so
unceremoniously
applied
to
him
.
In
the
first
place
,
it
was
evident
,
far
too
much
so
indeed
,
that
Pyotr
Petrovitch
had
made
eager
use
of
his
few
days
in
the
capital
to
get
himself
up
and
rig
himself
out
in
expectation
of
his
betrothed
—
a
perfectly
innocent
and
permissible
proceeding
,
indeed
.
Even
his
own
,
perhaps
too
complacent
,
consciousness
of
the
agreeable
improvement
in
his
appearance
might
have
been
forgiven
in
such
circumstances
,
seeing
that
Pyotr
Petrovitch
had
taken
up
the
rôle
of
fiancé
.
All
his
clothes
were
fresh
from
the
tailor
’
s
and
were
all
right
,
except
for
being
too
new
and
too
distinctly
appropriate
.
Even
the
stylish
new
round
hat
had
the
same
significance
.
Pyotr
Petrovitch
treated
it
too
respectfully
and
held
it
too
carefully
in
his
hands
.
The
exquisite
pair
of
lavender
gloves
,
real
Louvain
,
told
the
same
tale
,
if
only
from
the
fact
of
his
not
wearing
them
,
but
carrying
them
in
his
hand
for
show
.
Light
and
youthful
colours
predominated
in
Pyotr
Petrovitch
’
s
attire
.
He
wore
a
charming
summer
jacket
of
a
fawn
shade
,
light
thin
trousers
,
a
waistcoat
of
the
same
,
new
and
fine
linen
,
a
cravat
of
the
lightest
cambric
with
pink
stripes
on
it
,
and
the
best
of
it
was
,
this
all
suited
Pyotr
Petrovitch
.
His
very
fresh
and
even
handsome
face
looked
younger
than
his
forty
-
five
years
at
all
times
.
His
dark
,
mutton
-
chop
whiskers
made
an
agreeable
setting
on
both
sides
,
growing
thickly
upon
his
shining
,
clean
-
shaven
chin
.
Even
his
hair
,
touched
here
and
there
with
grey
,
though
it
had
been
combed
and
curled
at
a
hairdresser
’
s
,
did
not
give
him
a
stupid
appearance
,
as
curled
hair
usually
does
,
by
inevitably
suggesting
a
German
on
his
wedding
-
day
.
If
there
really
was
something
unpleasing
and
repulsive
in
his
rather
good
-
looking
and
imposing
countenance
,
it
was
due
to
quite
other
causes
.
After
scanning
Mr
.
Luzhin
unceremoniously
,
Raskolnikov
smiled
malignantly
,
sank
back
on
the
pillow
and
stared
at
the
ceiling
as
before
.
But
Mr
.
Luzhin
hardened
his
heart
and
seemed
to
determine
to
take
no
notice
of
their
oddities
.
“
I
feel
the
greatest
regret
at
finding
you
in
this
situation
,
”
he
began
,
again
breaking
the
silence
with
an
effort
.
“
If
I
had
been
aware
of
your
illness
I
should
have
come
earlier
.
But
you
know
what
business
is
.
I
have
,
too
,
a
very
important
legal
affair
in
the
Senate
,
not
to
mention
other
preoccupations
which
you
may
well
conjecture
.
I
am
expecting
your
mamma
and
sister
any
minute
.
”
Raskolnikov
made
a
movement
and
seemed
about
to
speak
;
his
face
showed
some
excitement
.
Pyotr
Petrovitch
paused
,
waited
,
but
as
nothing
followed
,
he
went
on
:
