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show his wit； but because he is a spy； a speculator； because he is a
skin…flint and a buffoon。 That's evident。 Do you think him clever？ No；
he is a fool； a fool。 And is he a match for you？ Good heavens！ Do
you see； ladies？〃 he stopped suddenly on the way upstairs to their
rooms； 〃though all my friends there are drunk； yet they are all
honest； and though we do talk a lot of trash； and I do； too； yet we
shall talk our way to the truth at last； for we are on the right path；
while Pyotr Petrovitch。。。 is not on the right path。 Though I've been
calling them all sorts of names just now； I do respect them all。。。
though I don't respect Zametov； I like him； for he is a puppy； and
that bullock Zossimov； because he is an honest man and knows his work。
But enough； it's all said and forgiven。 Is it forgiven？ Well； then；
let's go on。 I know this corridor； I've been here； there was a scandal
here at Number 3。。。。 Where are you here？ Which number？ eight？ Well；
lock yourselves in for the night； then。 Don't let anybody in。 In a
quarter of an hour I'll come back with news； and half an hour later
I'll bring Zossimov； you'll see！ Good…bye； I'll run。〃
〃Good heavens； Dounia； what is going to happen？〃 said Pulcheria
Alexandrovna； addressing her daughter with anxiety and dismay。
〃Don't worry yourself； mother；〃 said Dounia； taking off her hat
and cape。 〃God has sent this gentleman to our aid； though he has
come from a drinking party。 We can depend on him； I assure you。 And
all that he has done for Rodya。。。。〃
〃Ah。 Dounia； goodness knows whether he will come！ How could I
bring myself to leave Rodya？。。。 And how different； how different I had
fancied our meeting！ How sullen he was； as though not pleased to see
us。。。。〃
Tears came into her eyes。
〃No； it's not that； mother。 You didn't see； you were crying all
the time。 He is quite unhinged by serious illness… that's the reason。〃
〃Ah； that illness！ What will happen； what will happen？ And how he
talked to you； Dounia！〃 said the mother； looking timidly at her
daughter； trying to read her thoughts and； already half consoled by
Dounia's standing up for her brother； which meant that she had already
forgiven him。 〃I am sure he will think better of it to…morrow；〃 she
added； probing her further。
〃And I am sure that he will say the same to…morrow。。。 about that；〃
Avdotya Romanovna said finally。 And； of course； there was no going
beyond that； for this was a point which Pulcheria Alexandrovna was
afraid to discuss。 Dounia went up and kissed her mother。 The latter
warmly embraced her without speaking。 Then she sat down to wait
anxiously for Razumihin's return； timidly watching her daughter who
walked up and down the room with her arms folded； lost in thought。
This walking up and down when she was thinking was a habit of
Avdotya Romanovna's and the mother was always afraid to break in on
her daughter's mood at such moments。
Razumihin； of course； was ridiculous in his sudden drunken
infatuation for Avdotya Romanovna。 Yet apart from his eccentric
condition； many people would have thought it justified if they had
seen Avdotya Romanovna； especially at that moment when she was walking
to and fro with folded arms； pensive and melancholy。 Avdotya Romanovna
was remarkably good looking； she was tall； strikingly
well…proportioned； strong and self…reliant… the latter quality was
apparent in every gesture； though it did not in the least detract from
the grace and softness of her movements。 In face she resembled her
brother； but she might be described as really beautiful。 Her hair
was dark brown； a little lighter than her brother's； there was a proud
light in her almost black eyes and yet at times a look of
extraordinary kindness。 She was pale； but it was a healthy pallor； her
face was radiant with freshness and vigour。 Her mouth was rather
small； the full red lower lip projected a little as did her chin； it
was the only irregularity in her beautiful face； but it gave it a
peculiarly individual and almost haughty expression。 Her face was
always more serious and thoughtful than gay； but how well smiles；
how well youthful； lighthearted； irresponsible； laughter suited her
face！ It was natural enough that a warm； open； simple…hearted；
honest giant like Razumihin； who had never seen any one like her and
was not quite sober at the time； should lose his head immediately。
Besides； as chance would have it； he saw Dounia for the first time
transfigured by her love for her brother and her joy at meeting him。
Afterwards he saw her lower lip quiver with indignation at her
brother's insolent； cruel and ungrateful words… and his fate was
sealed。
He had spoken the truth； moreover； when he blurted out in his
drunken talk on the stairs that Praskovya Pavlovna； Raskolnikov's
eccentric landlady； would be jealous of Pulcheria Alexandrovna as well
as of Avdotya Romanovna on his account。 Although Pulcheria
Alexandrovna was forty…three； her face still retained traces of her
former beauty； she looked much younger than her age； indeed； which
is almost always the case with women who retain serenity of spirit；
sensitiveness and pure sincere warmth of heart to old age。 We may
add in parenthesis that to preserve all this is the only means of
retaining beauty to old age。 Her hair had begun to grow grey and thin；
there had long been little crow's foot wrinkles round her eyes； her
cheeks were hollow and sunken from anxiety and grief； and yet it was a
handsome face。 She was Dounia over again； twenty years older； but
without the projecting underlip。 Pulcheria Alexandrovna was emotional；
but not sentimental； timid and yielding； but only to a certain
point。 She could give way and accept a great deal even of what was
contrary to her convictions； but there was a certain barrier fixed
by honesty； principle and the deepest convictions which nothing
would induce her to cross。
Exactly twenty minutes after Razumihin's departure； there came two
subdued but hu