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“
Well
,
.
.
.
mother
I
don
’
t
wonder
at
,
it
’
s
like
her
,
God
bless
her
,
but
how
could
Dounia
?
Dounia
darling
,
as
though
I
did
not
know
you
!
You
were
nearly
twenty
when
I
saw
you
last
:
I
understood
you
then
.
Mother
writes
that
‘
Dounia
can
put
up
with
a
great
deal
.
’
I
know
that
very
well
.
I
knew
that
two
years
and
a
half
ago
,
and
for
the
last
two
and
a
half
years
I
have
been
thinking
about
it
,
thinking
of
just
that
,
that
‘
Dounia
can
put
up
with
a
great
deal
.
’
If
she
could
put
up
with
Mr
.
Svidrigaïlov
and
all
the
rest
of
it
,
she
certainly
can
put
up
with
a
great
deal
.
And
now
mother
and
she
have
taken
it
into
their
heads
that
she
can
put
up
with
Mr
.
Luzhin
,
who
propounds
the
theory
of
the
superiority
of
wives
raised
from
destitution
and
owing
everything
to
their
husband
’
s
bounty
—
who
propounds
it
,
too
,
almost
at
the
first
interview
.
Granted
that
he
‘
let
it
slip
,
’
though
he
is
a
sensible
man
,
(
yet
maybe
it
was
not
a
slip
at
all
,
but
he
meant
to
make
himself
clear
as
soon
as
possible
)
but
Dounia
,
Dounia
?
She
understands
the
man
,
of
course
,
but
she
will
have
to
live
with
the
man
.
Why
!
she
’
d
live
on
black
bread
and
water
,
she
would
not
sell
her
soul
,
she
would
not
barter
her
moral
freedom
for
comfort
;
she
would
not
barter
it
for
all
Schleswig
-
Holstein
,
much
less
Mr
.
Luzhin
’
s
money
.
No
,
Dounia
was
not
that
sort
when
I
knew
her
and
.
.
.
she
is
still
the
same
,
of
course
!
Yes
,
there
’
s
no
denying
,
the
Svidrigaïlovs
are
a
bitter
pill
!
It
’
s
a
bitter
thing
to
spend
one
’
s
life
a
governess
in
the
provinces
for
two
hundred
roubles
,
but
I
know
she
would
rather
be
a
nigger
on
a
plantation
or
a
Lett
with
a
German
master
than
degrade
her
soul
,
and
her
moral
dignity
,
by
binding
herself
for
ever
to
a
man
whom
she
does
not
respect
and
with
whom
she
has
nothing
in
common
—
for
her
own
advantage
.
And
if
Mr
.
Luzhin
had
been
of
unalloyed
gold
,
or
one
huge
diamond
,
she
would
never
have
consented
to
become
his
legal
concubine
.
Why
is
she
consenting
then
?
What
’
s
the
point
of
it
?
What
’
s
the
answer
?
It
’
s
clear
enough
:
for
herself
,
for
her
comfort
,
to
save
her
life
she
would
not
sell
herself
,
but
for
someone
else
she
is
doing
it
!
For
one
she
loves
,
for
one
she
adores
,
she
will
sell
herself
!
That
’
s
what
it
all
amounts
to
;
for
her
brother
,
for
her
mother
,
she
will
sell
herself
!
She
will
sell
everything
!
In
such
cases
,
‘
we
overcome
our
moral
feeling
if
necessary
,
’
freedom
,
peace
,
conscience
even
,
all
,
all
are
brought
into
the
market
.
Let
my
life
go
,
if
only
my
dear
ones
may
be
happy
!
More
than
that
,
we
become
casuists
,
we
learn
to
be
Jesuitical
and
for
a
time
maybe
we
can
soothe
ourselves
,
we
can
persuade
ourselves
that
it
is
one
’
s
duty
for
a
good
object
.
That
’
s
just
like
us
,
it
’
s
as
clear
as
daylight
.
It
’
s
clear
that
Rodion
Romanovitch
Raskolnikov
is
the
central
figure
in
the
business
,
and
no
one
else
.
Oh
,
yes
,
she
can
ensure
his
happiness
,
keep
him
in
the
university
,
make
him
a
partner
in
the
office
,
make
his
whole
future
secure
;
perhaps
he
may
even
be
a
rich
man
later
on
,
prosperous
,
respected
,
and
may
even
end
his
life
a
famous
man
!
But
my
mother
?
It
’
s
all
Rodya
,
precious
Rodya
,
her
first
born
!
For
such
a
son
who
would
not
sacrifice
such
a
daughter
!
Oh
,
loving
,
over
-
partial
hearts
!
Why
,
for
his
sake
we
would
not
shrink
even
from
Sonia
’
s
fate
.
Sonia
,
Sonia
Marmeladov
,
the
eternal
victim
so
long
as
the
world
lasts
.
Have
you
taken
the
measure
of
your
sacrifice
,
both
of
you
?
Is
it
right
?
Can
you
bear
it
?
Is
it
any
use
?
Is
there
sense
in
it
?
And
let
me
tell
you
,
Dounia
,
Sonia
’
s
life
is
no
worse
than
life
with
Mr
.
Luzhin
.
‘
There
can
be
no
question
of
love
,
’
mother
writes
.
And
what
if
there
can
be
no
respect
either
,
if
on
the
contrary
there
is
aversion
,
contempt
,
repulsion
,
what
then
?
So
you
will
have
to
‘
keep
up
your
appearance
,
’
too
.
Is
not
that
so
?
Do
you
understand
what
that
smartness
means
?
Do
you
understand
that
the
Luzhin
smartness
is
just
the
same
thing
as
Sonia
’
s
and
may
be
worse
,
viler
,
baser
,
because
in
your
case
,
Dounia
,
it
’
s
a
bargain
for
luxuries
,
after
all
,
but
with
Sonia
it
’
s
simply
a
question
of
starvation
.
It
has
to
be
paid
for
,
it
has
to
be
paid
for
,
Dounia
,
this
smartness
.
And
what
if
it
’
s
more
than
you
can
bear
afterwards
,
if
you
regret
it
?
The
bitterness
,
the
misery
,
the
curses
,
the
tears
hidden
from
all
the
world
,
for
you
are
not
a
Marfa
Petrovna
.
And
how
will
your
mother
feel
then
?
Even
now
she
is
uneasy
,
she
is
worried
,
but
then
,
when
she
sees
it
all
clearly
?
And
I
?
Yes
,
indeed
,
what
have
you
taken
me
for
?
I
won
’
t
have
your
sacrifice
,
Dounia
,
I
won
’
t
have
it
,
mother
!
It
shall
not
be
,
so
long
as
I
am
alive
,
it
shall
not
,
it
shall
not
!
I
won
’
t
accept
it
!
”
He
suddenly
paused
in
his
reflection
and
stood
still
.
“
It
shall
not
be
?
But
what
are
you
going
to
do
to
prevent
it
?
You
’
ll
forbid
it
?
And
what
right
have
you
?
What
can
you
promise
them
on
your
side
to
give
you
such
a
right
?
Your
whole
life
,
your
whole
future
,
you
will
devote
to
them
when
you
have
finished
your
studies
and
obtained
a
post
?
Yes
,
we
have
heard
all
that
before
,
and
that
’
s
all
words
,
but
now
?
Now
something
must
be
done
,
now
,
do
you
understand
that
?
And
what
are
you
doing
now
?
You
are
living
upon
them
.
They
borrow
on
their
hundred
roubles
pension
.
They
borrow
from
the
Svidrigaïlovs
.
How
are
you
going
to
save
them
from
Svidrigaïlovs
,
from
Afanasy
Ivanovitch
Vahrushin
,
oh
,
future
millionaire
Zeus
who
would
arrange
their
lives
for
them
?
In
another
ten
years
?
In
another
ten
years
,
mother
will
be
blind
with
knitting
shawls
,
maybe
with
weeping
too
.
She
will
be
worn
to
a
shadow
with
fasting
;
and
my
sister
?
Imagine
for
a
moment
what
may
have
become
of
your
sister
in
ten
years
?
What
may
happen
to
her
during
those
ten
years
?
Can
you
fancy
?
”
So
he
tortured
himself
,
fretting
himself
with
such
questions
,
and
finding
a
kind
of
enjoyment
in
it
.
And
yet
all
these
questions
were
not
new
ones
suddenly
confronting
him
,
they
were
old
familiar
aches
.
It
was
long
since
they
had
first
begun
to
grip
and
rend
his
heart
.
Long
,
long
ago
his
present
anguish
had
its
first
beginnings
;
it
had
waxed
and
gathered
strength
,
it
had
matured
and
concentrated
,
until
it
had
taken
the
form
of
a
fearful
,
frenzied
and
fantastic
question
,
which
tortured
his
heart
and
mind
,
clamouring
insistently
for
an
answer
.
Now
his
mother
’
s
letter
had
burst
on
him
like
a
thunderclap
.
It
was
clear
that
he
must
not
now
suffer
passively
,
worrying
himself
over
unsolved
questions
,
but
that
he
must
do
something
,
do
it
at
once
,
and
do
it
quickly
.
Anyway
he
must
decide
on
something
,
or
else
.
.
.
“
Or
throw
up
life
altogether
!
”
he
cried
suddenly
,
in
a
frenzy
—
“
accept
one
’
s
lot
humbly
as
it
is
,
once
for
all
and
stifle
everything
in
oneself
,
giving
up
all
claim
to
activity
,
life
and
love
!
”
