Fyodor Dostoevsky

all to worry about! It's simply physical derangement. Just a glass of

beer, a piece of dry bread--and in one moment the brain is stronger,

the mind is clearer and the will is firm! Phew, how utterly petty it all

is!"

But in spite of this scornful reflection, he was by now looking cheerful

as though he were suddenly set free from a terrible burden: and he gazed

round in a friendly way at the people in the room. But even at that

moment he had a dim foreboding that this happier frame of mind was also

not normal.

There were few people at the time in the tavern. Besides the two drunken

men he had met on the steps, a group consisting of about five men and

a girl with a concertina had gone out at the same time. Their departure

left the room quiet and rather empty. The persons still in the tavern

were a man who appeared to be an artisan, drunk, but not extremely so,

sitting before a pot of beer, and his companion, a huge, stout man with

a grey beard, in a short full-skirted coat. He was very drunk: and had

dropped asleep on the bench; every now and then, he began as though in

his sleep, cracking his fingers, with his arms wide apart and the upper

part of his body bounding about on the bench, while he hummed some

meaningless refrain, trying to recall some such lines as these:

"His wife a year he fondly loved His wife a--a year he--fondly loved."

Or suddenly waking up again:

"Walking along the crowded row He met the one he used to know."

But no one shared his enjoyment: his silent companion looked with

positive hostility and mistrust at all these manifestations. There was

another man in the room who looked somewhat like a retired government

clerk. He was sitting apart, now and then sipping from his pot and

looking round at the company. He, too, appeared to be in some agitation.

CHAPTER II

Raskolnikov was not used to crowds, and, as we said before, he avoided

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