Fyodor Dostoevsky

away; but checked himself at once, remembering that there was nowhere

else he could go, and that he had had another object also in coming.

"Hand it over," he said roughly.

The old woman fumbled in her pocket for her keys, and disappeared behind

the curtain into the other room. The young man, left standing alone in

the middle of the room, listened inquisitively, thinking. He could hear

her unlocking the chest of drawers.

"It must be the top drawer," he reflected. "So she carries the keys in

a pocket on the right. All in one bunch on a steel ring.... And there's

one key there, three times as big as all the others, with deep notches;

that can't be the key of the chest of drawers... then there must be some

other chest or strong-box... that's worth knowing. Strong-boxes always

have keys like that... but how degrading it all is."

The old woman came back.

"Here, sir: as we say ten copecks the rouble a month, so I must take

fifteen copecks from a rouble and a half for the month in advance. But

for the two roubles I lent you before, you owe me now twenty copecks

on the same reckoning in advance. That makes thirty-five copecks

altogether. So I must give you a rouble and fifteen copecks for the

watch. Here it is."

"What! only a rouble and fifteen copecks now!"

"Just so."

The young man did not dispute it and took the money. He looked at the

old woman, and was in no hurry to get away, as though there was still

something he wanted to say or to do, but he did not himself quite know

what.

"I may be bringing you something else in a day or two, Alyona

Ivanovna--a valuable thing--silver--a cigarette-box, as soon as I get it

back from a friend..." he broke off in confusion.

"Well, we will talk about it then, sir."

"Good-bye--are you always at home alone, your sister is not here with

you?" He asked her as casually as possible as he went out into the

passage.

"What business is she of yours, my good sir?"

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