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“
No
,
I
couldn
’
t
do
it
,
I
couldn
’
t
do
it
!
Granted
,
granted
that
there
is
no
flaw
in
all
that
reasoning
,
that
all
that
I
have
concluded
this
last
month
is
clear
as
day
,
true
as
arithmetic
.
.
.
.
My
God
!
Anyway
I
couldn
’
t
bring
myself
to
it
!
I
couldn
’
t
do
it
,
I
couldn
’
t
do
it
!
Why
,
why
then
am
I
still
.
.
.
?
”
He
rose
to
his
feet
,
looked
round
in
wonder
as
though
surprised
at
finding
himself
in
this
place
,
and
went
towards
the
bridge
.
He
was
pale
,
his
eyes
glowed
,
he
was
exhausted
in
every
limb
,
but
he
seemed
suddenly
to
breathe
more
easily
.
He
felt
he
had
cast
off
that
fearful
burden
that
had
so
long
been
weighing
upon
him
,
and
all
at
once
there
was
a
sense
of
relief
and
peace
in
his
soul
.
“
Lord
,
”
he
prayed
,
“
show
me
my
path
—
I
renounce
that
accursed
.
.
.
dream
of
mine
.
”
Crossing
the
bridge
,
he
gazed
quietly
and
calmly
at
the
Neva
,
at
the
glowing
red
sun
setting
in
the
glowing
sky
.
In
spite
of
his
weakness
he
was
not
conscious
of
fatigue
.
It
was
as
though
an
abscess
that
had
been
forming
for
a
month
past
in
his
heart
had
suddenly
broken
.
Freedom
,
freedom
!
He
was
free
from
that
spell
,
that
sorcery
,
that
obsession
!
Later
on
,
when
he
recalled
that
time
and
all
that
happened
to
him
during
those
days
,
minute
by
minute
,
point
by
point
,
he
was
superstitiously
impressed
by
one
circumstance
,
which
,
though
in
itself
not
very
exceptional
,
always
seemed
to
him
afterwards
the
predestined
turning
-
point
of
his
fate
.
He
could
never
understand
and
explain
to
himself
why
,
when
he
was
tired
and
worn
out
,
when
it
would
have
been
more
convenient
for
him
to
go
home
by
the
shortest
and
most
direct
way
,
he
had
returned
by
the
Hay
Market
where
he
had
no
need
to
go
.
It
was
obviously
and
quite
unnecessarily
out
of
his
way
,
though
not
much
so
.
It
is
true
that
it
happened
to
him
dozens
of
times
to
return
home
without
noticing
what
streets
he
passed
through
.
But
why
,
he
was
always
asking
himself
,
why
had
such
an
important
,
such
a
decisive
and
at
the
same
time
such
an
absolutely
chance
meeting
happened
in
the
Hay
Market
(
where
he
had
moreover
no
reason
to
go
)
at
the
very
hour
,
the
very
minute
of
his
life
when
he
was
just
in
the
very
mood
and
in
the
very
circumstances
in
which
that
meeting
was
able
to
exert
the
gravest
and
most
decisive
influence
on
his
whole
destiny
?
As
though
it
had
been
lying
in
wait
for
him
on
purpose
!
It
was
about
nine
o
’
clock
when
he
crossed
the
Hay
Market
.
At
the
tables
and
the
barrows
,
at
the
booths
and
the
shops
,
all
the
market
people
were
closing
their
establishments
or
clearing
away
and
packing
up
their
wares
and
,
like
their
customers
,
were
going
home
.
Rag
pickers
and
costermongers
of
all
kinds
were
crowding
round
the
taverns
in
the
dirty
and
stinking
courtyards
of
the
Hay
Market
.
Raskolnikov
particularly
liked
this
place
and
the
neighbouring
alleys
,
when
he
wandered
aimlessly
in
the
streets
.
Here
his
rags
did
not
attract
contemptuous
attention
,
and
one
could
walk
about
in
any
attire
without
scandalising
people
.
At
the
corner
of
an
alley
a
huckster
and
his
wife
had
two
tables
set
out
with
tapes
,
thread
,
cotton
handkerchiefs
,
etc
.
They
,
too
,
had
got
up
to
go
home
,
but
were
lingering
in
conversation
with
a
friend
,
who
had
just
come
up
to
them
.
This
friend
was
Lizaveta
Ivanovna
,
or
,
as
everyone
called
her
,
Lizaveta
,
the
younger
sister
of
the
old
pawnbroker
,
Alyona
Ivanovna
,
whom
Raskolnikov
had
visited
the
previous
day
to
pawn
his
watch
and
make
his
experiment
.
.
.
.
He
already
knew
all
about
Lizaveta
and
she
knew
him
a
little
too
.
She
was
a
single
woman
of
about
thirty
-
five
,
tall
,
clumsy
,
timid
,
submissive
and
almost
idiotic
.
She
was
a
complete
slave
and
went
in
fear
and
trembling
of
her
sister
,
who
made
her
work
day
and
night
,
and
even
beat
her
.
She
was
standing
with
a
bundle
before
the
huckster
and
his
wife
,
listening
earnestly
and
doubtfully
.
They
were
talking
of
something
with
special
warmth
.
The
moment
Raskolnikov
caught
sight
of
her
,
he
was
overcome
by
a
strange
sensation
as
it
were
of
intense
astonishment
,
though
there
was
nothing
astonishing
about
this
meeting
.
“
You
could
make
up
your
mind
for
yourself
,
Lizaveta
Ivanovna
,
”
the
huckster
was
saying
aloud
.
“
Come
round
to
-
morrow
about
seven
.
They
will
be
here
too
.
”
“
To
-
morrow
?
”
said
Lizaveta
slowly
and
thoughtfully
,
as
though
unable
to
make
up
her
mind
.
“
Upon
my
word
,
what
a
fright
you
are
in
of
Alyona
Ivanovna
,
”
gabbled
the
huckster
’
s
wife
,
a
lively
little
woman
.
“
I
look
at
you
,
you
are
like
some
little
babe
.
