Fyodor Dostoevsky

and seemed about to fly into a rage again, but thought better of it, and

confined himself to a contemptuous look. He then walked slowly another

ten paces away and again halted.

"Keep her out of his hands we can," said the constable thoughtfully,

"if only she'd tell us where to take her, but as it is.... Missy, hey,

missy!" he bent over her once more.

She opened her eyes fully all of a sudden, looked at him intently, as

though realising something, got up from the seat and walked away in the

direction from which she had come. "Oh shameful wretches, they won't let

me alone!" she said, waving her hand again. She walked quickly, though

staggering as before. The dandy followed her, but along another avenue,

keeping his eye on her.

"Don't be anxious, I won't let him have her," the policeman said

resolutely, and he set off after them.

"Ah, the vice one sees nowadays!" he repeated aloud, sighing.

At that moment something seemed to sting Raskolnikov; in an instant a

complete revulsion of feeling came over him.

"Hey, here!" he shouted after the policeman.

The latter turned round.

"Let them be! What is it to do with you? Let her go! Let him amuse

himself." He pointed at the dandy, "What is it to do with you?"

The policeman was bewildered, and stared at him open-eyed. Raskolnikov

laughed.

"Well!" ejaculated the policeman, with a gesture of contempt, and he

walked after the dandy and the girl, probably taking Raskolnikov for a

madman or something even worse.

"He has carried off my twenty copecks," Raskolnikov murmured angrily

when he was left alone. "Well, let him take as much from the other

fellow to allow him to have the girl and so let it end. And why did I

want to interfere? Is it for me to help? Have I any right to help? Let

them devour each other alive--what is to me? How did I dare to give him

twenty copecks? Were they mine?"

In spite of those strange words he felt very wretched. He sat down on

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