Fyodor Dostoevsky

positive con-so-la-tion, ho-nou-red sir," he called out, shaken to and

fro by his hair and even once striking the ground with his forehead.

The child asleep on the floor woke up, and began to cry. The boy in the

corner losing all control began trembling and screaming and rushed

to his sister in violent terror, almost in a fit. The eldest girl was

shaking like a leaf.

"He's drunk it! he's drunk it all," the poor woman screamed in

despair--"and his clothes are gone! And they are hungry, hungry!"--and

wringing her hands she pointed to the children. "Oh, accursed life!

And you, are you not ashamed?"--she pounced all at once upon

Raskolnikov--"from the tavern! Have you been drinking with him? You have

been drinking with him, too! Go away!"

The young man was hastening away without uttering a word. The inner door

was thrown wide open and inquisitive faces were peering in at it. Coarse

laughing faces with pipes and cigarettes and heads wearing caps thrust

themselves in at the doorway. Further in could be seen figures in

dressing gowns flung open, in costumes of unseemly scantiness, some of

them with cards in their hands. They were particularly diverted, when

Marmeladov, dragged about by his hair, shouted that it was a consolation

to him. They even began to come into the room; at last a sinister shrill

outcry was heard: this came from Amalia Lippevechsel herself pushing her

way amongst them and trying to restore order after her own fashion and

for the hundredth time to frighten the poor woman by ordering her

with coarse abuse to clear out of the room next day. As he went out,

Raskolnikov had time to put his hand into his pocket, to snatch up the

coppers he had received in exchange for his rouble in the tavern and to

lay them unnoticed on the window. Afterwards on the stairs, he changed

his mind and would have gone back.

"What a stupid thing I've done," he thought to himself, "they have Sonia

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