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“
PULCHERIA
RASKOLNIKOV
.
”
Almost
from
the
first
,
while
he
read
the
letter
,
Raskolnikov
’
s
face
was
wet
with
tears
;
but
when
he
finished
it
,
his
face
was
pale
and
distorted
and
a
bitter
,
wrathful
and
malignant
smile
was
on
his
lips
.
He
laid
his
head
down
on
his
threadbare
dirty
pillow
and
pondered
,
pondered
a
long
time
.
His
heart
was
beating
violently
,
and
his
brain
was
in
a
turmoil
.
At
last
he
felt
cramped
and
stifled
in
the
little
yellow
room
that
was
like
a
cupboard
or
a
box
.
His
eyes
and
his
mind
craved
for
space
.
He
took
up
his
hat
and
went
out
,
this
time
without
dread
of
meeting
anyone
;
he
had
forgotten
his
dread
He
turned
in
the
direction
of
the
Vassilyevsky
Ostrov
,
walking
along
Vassilyevsky
Prospect
,
as
though
hastening
on
some
business
,
but
he
walked
,
as
his
habit
was
,
without
noticing
his
way
,
muttering
and
even
speaking
aloud
to
himself
,
to
the
astonishment
of
the
passers
-
by
.
Many
of
them
took
him
to
be
drunk
.
His
mother
’
s
letter
had
been
a
torture
to
him
,
but
as
regards
the
chief
fact
in
it
,
he
had
felt
not
one
moment
’
s
hesitation
,
even
whilst
he
was
reading
the
letter
.
The
essential
question
was
settled
,
and
irrevocably
settled
,
in
his
mind
:
“
Never
such
a
marriage
while
I
am
alive
and
Mr
.
Luzhin
be
damned
!
”
“
The
thing
is
perfectly
clear
,
”
he
muttered
to
himself
,
with
a
malignant
smile
anticipating
the
triumph
of
his
decision
.
“
No
,
mother
,
no
,
Dounia
,
you
won
’
t
deceive
me
!
and
then
they
apologise
for
not
asking
my
advice
and
for
taking
the
decision
without
me
!
I
dare
say
!
They
imagine
it
is
arranged
now
and
can
’
t
be
broken
off
;
but
we
will
see
whether
it
can
or
not
!
A
magnificent
excuse
:
‘
Pyotr
Petrovitch
is
such
a
busy
man
that
even
his
wedding
has
to
be
in
post
-
haste
,
almost
by
express
.
’
No
,
Dounia
,
I
see
it
all
and
I
know
what
you
want
to
say
to
me
;
and
I
know
too
what
you
were
thinking
about
,
when
you
walked
up
and
down
all
night
,
and
what
your
prayers
were
like
before
the
Holy
Mother
of
Kazan
who
stands
in
mother
’
s
bedroom
.
Bitter
is
the
ascent
to
Golgotha
.
.
.
.
Hm
.
.
.
so
it
is
finally
settled
;
you
have
determined
to
marry
a
sensible
business
man
,
Avdotya
Romanovna
,
one
who
has
a
fortune
(
has
already
made
his
fortune
,
that
is
so
much
more
solid
and
impressive
)
,
a
man
who
holds
two
government
posts
and
who
shares
the
ideas
of
our
most
rising
generation
,
as
mother
writes
,
and
who
seems
to
be
kind
,
as
Dounia
herself
observes
.
That
seems
beats
everything
!
And
that
very
Dounia
for
that
very
‘
seems
’
is
marrying
him
!
Splendid
!
splendid
!
“
.
.
.
But
I
should
like
to
know
why
mother
has
written
to
me
about
‘
our
most
rising
generation
’
?
Simply
as
a
descriptive
touch
,
or
with
the
idea
of
prepossessing
me
in
favour
of
Mr
.
Luzhin
?
Oh
,
the
cunning
of
them
!
I
should
like
to
know
one
thing
more
:
how
far
they
were
open
with
one
another
that
day
and
night
and
all
this
time
since
?
Was
it
all
put
into
words
,
or
did
both
understand
that
they
had
the
same
thing
at
heart
and
in
their
minds
,
so
that
there
was
no
need
to
speak
of
it
aloud
,
and
better
not
to
speak
of
it
.
Most
likely
it
was
partly
like
that
,
from
mother
’
s
letter
it
’
s
evident
:
he
struck
her
as
rude
a
little
,
and
mother
in
her
simplicity
took
her
observations
to
Dounia
.
And
she
was
sure
to
be
vexed
and
‘
answered
her
angrily
.
’
I
should
think
so
!
Who
would
not
be
angered
when
it
was
quite
clear
without
any
naïve
questions
and
when
it
was
understood
that
it
was
useless
to
discuss
it
.
And
why
does
she
write
to
me
,
‘
love
Dounia
,
Rodya
,
and
she
loves
you
more
than
herself
’
?
Has
she
a
secret
conscience
-
prick
at
sacrificing
her
daughter
to
her
son
?
‘
You
are
our
one
comfort
,
you
are
everything
to
us
.
’
Oh
,
mother
!
”
His
bitterness
grew
more
and
more
intense
,
and
if
he
had
happened
to
meet
Mr
.
Luzhin
at
the
moment
,
he
might
have
murdered
him
.
“
Hm
.
.
.
yes
,
that
’
s
true
,
”
he
continued
,
pursuing
the
whirling
ideas
that
chased
each
other
in
his
brain
,
“
it
is
true
that
‘
it
needs
time
and
care
to
get
to
know
a
man
,
’
but
there
is
no
mistake
about
Mr
.
Luzhin
.
The
chief
thing
is
he
is
‘
a
man
of
business
and
seems
kind
,
’
that
was
something
,
wasn
’
t
it
,
to
send
the
bags
and
big
box
for
them
!
A
kind
man
,
no
doubt
after
that
!
But
his
bride
and
her
mother
are
to
drive
in
a
peasant
’
s
cart
covered
with
sacking
(
I
know
,
I
have
been
driven
in
it
)
.
No
matter
!
It
is
only
ninety
versts
and
then
they
can
‘
travel
very
comfortably
,
third
class
,
’
for
a
thousand
versts
!
Quite
right
,
too
.
One
must
cut
one
’
s
coat
according
to
one
’
s
cloth
,
but
what
about
you
,
Mr
.
Luzhin
?
She
is
your
bride
.
.
.
.
And
you
must
be
aware
that
her
mother
has
to
raise
money
on
her
pension
for
the
journey
.
To
be
sure
it
’
s
a
matter
of
business
,
a
partnership
for
mutual
benefit
,
with
equal
shares
and
expenses
;
—
food
and
drink
provided
,
but
pay
for
your
tobacco
.
The
business
man
has
got
the
better
of
them
,
too
.
The
luggage
will
cost
less
than
their
fares
and
very
likely
go
for
nothing
.
How
is
it
that
they
don
’
t
both
see
all
that
,
or
is
it
that
they
don
’
t
want
to
see
?
And
they
are
pleased
,
pleased
!
And
to
think
that
this
is
only
the
first
blossoming
,
and
that
the
real
fruits
are
to
come
!
But
what
really
matters
is
not
the
stinginess
,
is
not
the
meanness
,
but
the
tone
of
the
whole
thing
.
For
that
will
be
the
tone
after
marriage
,
it
’
s
a
foretaste
of
it
.
And
mother
too
,
why
should
she
be
so
lavish
?
What
will
she
have
by
the
time
she
gets
to
Petersburg
?
Three
silver
roubles
or
two
‘
paper
ones
’
as
she
says
.
.
.
.
that
old
woman
.
.
.
hm
.
What
does
she
expect
to
live
upon
in
Petersburg
afterwards
?
She
has
her
reasons
already
for
guessing
that
she
could
not
live
with
Dounia
after
the
marriage
,
even
for
the
first
few
months
.
The
good
man
has
no
doubt
let
slip
something
on
that
subject
also
,
though
mother
would
deny
it
:
‘
I
shall
refuse
,
’
says
she
.
On
whom
is
she
reckoning
then
?
Is
she
counting
on
what
is
left
of
her
hundred
and
twenty
roubles
of
pension
when
Afanasy
Ivanovitch
’
s
debt
is
paid
?
She
knits
woollen
shawls
and
embroiders
cuffs
,
ruining
her
old
eyes
.
And
all
her
shawls
don
’
t
add
more
than
twenty
roubles
a
year
to
her
hundred
and
twenty
,
I
know
that
.
So
she
is
building
all
her
hopes
all
the
time
on
Mr
.
Luzhin
’
s
generosity
;
‘
he
will
offer
it
of
himself
,
he
will
press
it
on
me
.
’
You
may
wait
a
long
time
for
that
!
That
’
s
how
it
always
is
with
these
Schilleresque
noble
hearts
;
till
the
last
moment
every
goose
is
a
swan
with
them
,
till
the
last
moment
,
they
hope
for
the
best
and
will
see
nothing
wrong
,
and
although
they
have
an
inkling
of
the
other
side
of
the
picture
,
yet
they
won
’
t
face
the
truth
till
they
are
forced
to
;
the
very
thought
of
it
makes
them
shiver
;
they
thrust
the
truth
away
with
both
hands
,
until
the
man
they
deck
out
in
false
colours
puts
a
fool
’
s
cap
on
them
with
his
own
hands
.
I
should
like
to
know
whether
Mr
.
Luzhin
has
any
orders
of
merit
;
I
bet
he
has
the
Anna
in
his
buttonhole
and
that
he
puts
it
on
when
he
goes
to
dine
with
contractors
or
merchants
.
He
will
be
sure
to
have
it
for
his
wedding
,
too
!
Enough
of
him
,
confound
him
!
