Crime and Punishment

Crime and Punishment - Noyemi

By Fyodor Dostoevsky

and, as before, standing in front of him so as to look him straight in
the face.

"I've brought something to pawn here," and he drew out of his pocket
an old-fashioned flat silver watch, on the back of which was engraved
a globe; the chain was of steel.

"But the time is up for your last pledge. The month was up the day
before yesterday."

"I will bring you the interest for another month; wait a little."

"But that's for me to do as I please, my good sir, to wait or to sell
your pledge at once."

"How much will you give me for the watch, Alyona Ivanovna?"

"You come with such trifles, my good sir, it's scarcely worth
anything. I gave you two roubles last time for your ring and one could
buy it quite new at a jeweler's for a rouble and a half."

"Give me four roubles for it, I shall redeem it, it was my father's. I
shall be getting some money soon."

"A rouble and a half, and interest in advance, if you like!"

"A rouble and a half!" cried the young man.

"Please yourself"--and the old woman handed him back the watch. The
young man took it, and was so angry that he was on the point of going
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?"

"Oh, nothing particular, I simply asked. You are too quick. . . .
Good-day, Alyona Ivanovna."

Raskolnikov went out in complete confusion. This confusion became more
and more intense. As he went down the stairs, he even stopped short,
two or three times, as though suddenly struck by some thought. When he
was in the street he cried out, "Oh, God, how loathsome it all is! and
can I, can I possibly. . . . No, it's nonsense, it's rubbish!" he
added resolutely. "And how could such an atrocious thing come into my
head? What filthy things my heart is capable of. Yes, filthy above
all, disgusting, loathsome, loathsome!--and for a whole month I've
been. . . ." But no words, no exclamations, could express his
agitation. The feeling of intense repulsion, which had begun to
oppress and torture his heart while he was on his way to the old
woman, had by now reached such a pitch and had taken such a definite
form that he did not know what to do with himself to escape from his
wretchedness. He walked along the pavement like a drunken man,
regardless of the passers-by, and jostling against them, and only came
to his senses when he was in the next street. Looking round, he
noticed that he was standing close to a tavern which was entered by
steps leading from the pavement to the basement. At that instant two
drunken men came out at the door, and abusing and supporting one

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