he began addressing her, "where do you live?" The girl opened her weary
and sleepy-looking eyes, gazed blankly at the speaker and waved her
hand.
"Here," said Raskolnikov feeling in his pocket and finding twenty
copecks, "here, call a cab and tell him to drive her to her address. The
only thing is to find out her address!"
"Missy, missy!" the policeman began again, taking the money. "I'll fetch
you a cab and take you home myself. Where shall I take you, eh? Where do
you live?"
"Go away! They won't let me alone," the girl muttered, and once more
waved her hand.
"Ach, ach, how shocking! It's shameful, missy, it's a shame!" He shook
his head again, shocked, sympathetic and indignant.
"It's a difficult job," the policeman said to Raskolnikov, and as he
did so, he looked him up and down in a rapid glance. He, too, must have
seemed a strange figure to him: dressed in rags and handing him money!
"Did you meet her far from here?" he asked him.
"I tell you she was walking in front of me, staggering, just here, in
the boulevard. She only just reached the seat and sank down on it."
"Ah, the shameful things that are done in the world nowadays, God have
mercy on us! An innocent creature like that, drunk already! She has been
deceived, that's a sure thing. See how her dress has been torn too....
Ah, the vice one sees nowadays! And as likely as not she belongs to
gentlefolk too, poor ones maybe.... There are many like that nowadays.
She looks refined, too, as though she were a lady," and he bent over her
once more.
Perhaps he had daughters growing up like that, "looking like ladies and
refined" with pretensions to gentility and smartness....
"The chief thing is," Raskolnikov persisted, "to keep her out of this
scoundrel's hands! Why should he outrage her! It's as clear as day what
he is after; ah, the brute, he is not moving off!"
Raskolnikov spoke aloud and pointed to him. The gentleman heard him,
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