De: Crime and Punishment
III
"Pyotr Petrovich!" she cried. "Protect me at least! Convince this foolish creature that she dare not treat a noble lady in misfortune this way, that there are courts for this... I shall go to the Governor-General himself... She will answer for it... Remembering my father's hospitality, protect the orphans!"
"Allow me, madam... Allow me, allow me, madam," Pyotr Petrovich waved her off. "Your papa, as is well known to you, I did not have the honor of knowing at all... allow me, madam!" (someone laughed loudly), "and in your incessant quarrels with Amalia Ivanovna I do not intend to participate, sir... I have my own business... and wish to speak immediately with your stepdaughter, Sofya... Ivanovna... I believe that's correct, sir? Allow me to pass, sir..."
And Pyotr Petrovich, edging sideways around Katerina Ivanovna, headed toward the opposite corner where Sonya was standing.
Katerina Ivanovna remained standing in place as if thunderstruck. She could not understand how Pyotr Petrovich could renounce her papa's hospitality. Having once invented this hospitality, she now believed in it herself devoutly. She was also struck by Pyotr Petrovich's businesslike, dry tone, full of even some contemptuous threat. Indeed, everyone had gradually fallen silent at his appearance. Besides the fact that this "businesslike and serious" man was too sharply out of harmony with the whole company, it was evident that he had come for something important, that probably some extraordinary reason could have drawn him to such company, and that, consequently, something was about to happen, something would occur. Raskolnikov, standing beside Sonya, stepped aside to let him pass; Pyotr Petrovich seemed not to notice him at all. A minute later Lebeziatnikov also appeared on the threshold; he did not enter the room but stopped with a peculiar curiosity, almost with surprise; he listened, but seemed for a long time unable to understand something.
"Excuse me for perhaps interrupting, but the matter is quite important, sir," remarked Pyotr Petrovich as if addressing no one in particular. "I am even glad to have an audience. Amalia Ivanovna, I most humbly ask you, as mistress of the apartment, to pay attention to my subsequent conversation with Sofya Ivanovna. Sofya Ivanovna," he continued, addressing the extremely surprised and already frightened Sonya directly, "from the table in my room, in the room of my friend Andrey Semyonovich Lebeziatnikov, immediately following your visit, there disappeared a state treasury note belonging to me in the amount of one hundred rubles. If by any means whatsoever you know and can tell us where it now is, then I assure you on my word of honor, and call everyone to witness, that the matter will end there. In the contrary case, I shall be forced to resort to quite serious measures, and then... you will have only yourself to blame, sir!"
Complete silence reigned in the room. Even the crying children fell quiet. Sonya stood deathly pale, looking at Luzhin and unable to answer. She seemed not yet to understand. Several seconds passed.
"Well, sir, what do you say, sir?" asked Luzhin, staring intently at her.
"I don't know... I know nothing..." Sonya finally spoke in a weak voice.
"No? You don't know?" repeated Luzhin and paused for several more seconds. "Think, mademoiselle," he began sternly, but still as if admonishing her, "consider, I am willing to give you more time to reflect. You see, sir: if I were not so certain, then of course, with my experience, I would not risk accusing you so directly; for such a direct and public but false or even merely mistaken accusation I, in a certain sense, am myself responsible. I know this, sir. This morning I exchanged, for my needs, several five-percent bonds for a sum, nominally, of three thousand rubles. The calculation is recorded in my pocketbook. Upon coming home, I—Andrey Semyonovich is witness to this—began counting the money and, having counted two thousand three hundred rubles, put them away in my pocketbook, and the pocketbook in the side pocket of my coat. About five hundred rubles remained on the table in treasury notes, and among them three notes of one hundred rubles each. At that moment you arrived (at my summons)—and all the time remained in extreme agitation, so that even three times during the conversation you stood up and hurried to leave for some reason, though our conversation was not yet finished. Andrey Semyonovich can testify to all this. You yourself, mademoiselle, will probably not refuse to confirm and declare that I summoned you, through Andrey Semyonovich, solely in order to discuss with you the orphaned and helpless situation of your relative, Katerina Ivanovna (to whose memorial dinner I could not come), and how it would be useful to arrange something like a subscription, lottery, or the like in her favor. You thanked me and even shed tears (I recount everything as it happened, firstly to remind you, and secondly to show you that not the slightest detail has been erased from my memory). Then I took a ten-ruble treasury note from the table and gave it to you, in my own name, for the interests of your relative and as initial assistance. All this Andrey Semyonovich saw. Then I accompanied you to the door—still in the same agitation on your part—after which, being left alone with Andrey Semyonovich and conversing with him for about ten minutes, Andrey Semyonovich went out, and I again turned to the table with the money lying on it, intending to count it and put it aside separately, as I had intended before. To my surprise, one hundred-ruble note was missing from among the others. Be so good as to consider: I can in no way suspect Andrey Semyonovich; I am even ashamed of the supposition. Nor could I have made a mistake in counting, because a minute before your arrival, having finished all my accounts, I found the total correct. Admit yourself that, recalling your agitation, your haste to leave, and the fact that you kept your hands on the table for some time; taking finally into consideration your social position and the habits associated with it, I was, so to speak, with horror, and even against my will, forced to stop at a suspicion—certainly cruel, but—just, sir! I will add and repeat that despite all my obvious certainty, I understand that there is nevertheless some risk for me in my present accusation. But, as you see, I did not let the matter rest; I rose up, and I will tell you why: solely, madam, solely because of your blackest ingratitude! What? I invite you in the interests of your destitute relative, I present you with my modest donation of ten rubles, and you, right there, immediately repay me for all this with such an act! No, sir, this is not good, sir! A lesson is necessary, sir. Consider then; moreover, as your true friend, I ask you (for you cannot have a better friend than me at this moment), come to your senses! Otherwise, I shall be merciless! Well, sir, then?"
"I took nothing from you," whispered Sonya in horror. "You gave me ten rubles, here, take them." Sonya pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, found the knot, untied it, took out the ten-ruble note, and held out her hand to Luzhin.
"And so you refuse to acknowledge the other hundred rubles?" he said reproachfully and insistently, not taking the note.
Sonya looked around. Everyone was looking at her with such terrible, stern, mocking, hateful faces. She glanced at Raskolnikov... he stood by the wall with his arms crossed and looked at her with a fiery gaze.
"Oh, Lord!" burst from Sonya.
"Amalia Ivanovna, we shall have to notify the police, and therefore I most humbly ask you to send for the caretaker in the meantime," Luzhin said quietly and even tenderly.
"Gott der barmherzige! I knew it, that she steal!" Amalia Ivanovna threw up her hands.
"You knew it?" Luzhin caught her up. "So you already had at least some grounds for such a conclusion beforehand. I ask you, most esteemed Amalia Ivanovna, to remember your words, spoken, moreover, before witnesses."
From all sides a loud hubbub suddenly arose. Everyone stirred.
"Wha-at!" Katerina Ivanovna suddenly cried out, coming to her senses, and—as if breaking loose—rushed at Luzhin. "What! You accuse her of theft? Sonya? Oh, you scoundrels, scoundrels!" And throwing herself at Sonya, she embraced her with her withered arms as in a vise.
"Sonya! How dare you take ten rubles from him! Oh, foolish girl! Give it here! Give me those ten rubles this instant—here!"
And snatching the note from Sonya, Katerina Ivanovna crumpled it in her hands and threw it with a backhand swing straight into Luzhin's face. The little ball hit him in the eye and bounced to the floor. Amalia Ivanovna rushed to pick up the money. Pyotr Petrovich grew angry.
"Restrain this madwoman!" he shouted.
At that moment several more faces appeared in the doorway beside Lebeziatnikov, including the two visiting ladies.
"What! Madwoman? Am I mad? Fo-ol!" shrieked Katerina Ivanovna. "You're the fool yourself, you legal shyster, base man! Sonya, Sonya take his money! Would Sonya steal! Why, she would sooner give to you, fool!" And Katerina Ivanovna broke into hysterical laughter. "Did you see the fool?" she darted about in all directions, pointing at Luzhin for everyone to see. "What! And you too?" she saw the landlady. "You too, you sausage-maker, you confirm that she 'steal,' you nasty Prussian chicken-leg in a crinoline! Oh, you! Oh, you! Why, she hasn't even left the room, and when she came from you, scoundrel, she sat down right here next to Rodion Romanovich!... Search her! Since she hasn't gone anywhere, the money must be on her! Search, search, search! Only if you don't find it, then excuse me, dear fellow, you'll answer for it! To the sovereign, to the sovereign, to the Tsar himself, the merciful one, I'll run, I'll throw myself at his feet, right now, this very day! I'm an orphan! They'll let me in! You think they won't let me in? You lie, I'll get through! I'll ge-et through! So you counted on her being meek? Is that what you counted on? But I, brother, am quite spirited! You'll come to grief! Search then! Search, search, well, search!"
And Katerina Ivanovna in a frenzy pulled at Luzhin, dragging him toward Sonya.
"I am ready, sir, and will answer... but calm yourself, madam, calm yourself! I see only too well that you are spirited!... This... this... how is this to be done, sir?" muttered Luzhin. "This should be done with the police present, sir... though indeed there are quite enough witnesses even now... I am ready, sir... But in any case it is difficult for a man... on account of sex... If with Amalia Ivanovna's help... though this is not how such things are done... How is this to be, sir?"
"Anyone you like! Let whoever wants to search her!" shouted Katerina Ivanovna. "Sonya, turn out your pockets for them! There, there! See, monster, here it is empty, the handkerchief was there, the pocket is empty, see! Here's the other pocket, there, there! See! See!"
And Katerina Ivanovna didn't so much turn out as actually yanked both pockets, one after the other, inside out. But from the second, right-hand pocket, a piece of paper suddenly flew out and, describing a parabola in the air, fell at Luzhin's feet. Everyone saw it; many cried out. Pyotr Petrovich bent down, picked up the paper from the floor with two fingers, held it up for all to see, and unfolded it. It was a hundred-ruble treasury note, folded in eighths. Pyotr Petrovich turned his hand in a circle, showing everyone the note.
"Thief! Out of the apartment! Police, police!" shrieked Amalia Ivanovna. "They must to Siberia drive! Out!"
Exclamations flew from all sides. Raskolnikov was silent, not taking his eyes off Sonya, occasionally but quickly shifting them to Luzhin. Sonya stood rooted to the spot as if senseless: she was almost not even surprised. Suddenly color flooded her whole face; she cried out and covered her face with her hands.
"No, it wasn't me! I didn't take it! I don't know!" she cried out with a heart-rending wail and threw herself toward Katerina Ivanovna. She caught her and pressed her tightly to herself, as if wishing to shield her from everyone with her breast.
"Sonya! Sonya! I don't believe it! You see, I don't believe it!" cried Katerina Ivanovna (despite all the evidence), shaking her in her arms like a child, kissing her endlessly, catching her hands and kissing them, positively devouring them with kisses. "That you would take it! What stupid people these are! Oh, Lord! Stupid you are, stupid," she cried, addressing everyone. "You still don't know, don't know what heart she has, what kind of girl this is! She would take it, she! Why, she would take off her last dress, sell it, go barefoot herself, and give it to you if you needed it, that's what she's like! She took the yellow ticket because my children were starving, sold herself for us!... Oh, my late husband, my late husband! Oh, my late husband, my late husband! Do you see? Do you see? This is your memorial dinner! Lord! Why don't you defend her, why are you all just standing there! Rodion Romanovich! Why don't you stand up for her? Do you believe it too? None of you are worth her little finger, all of you, all, all, all! Lord! Defend her, finally!"
The weeping of poor, consumptive, orphaned Katerina Ivanovna seemed to produce a powerful effect on the public. There was so much that was pitiful, so much suffering in that face twisted with pain, in those dried, consumptive lips caked with blood, in that hoarsely screaming voice, in that sobbing wail resembling a child's crying, in that trusting, childlike and at the same time desperate plea for protection, that it seemed everyone pitied the unfortunate woman. At least Pyotr Petrovich immediately took pity.
"Madam! Madam!" he exclaimed in an imposing voice. "This fact does not concern you! No one would dare accuse you of intent or collusion, all the more since you yourself exposed it by turning out the pockets: therefore you suspected nothing. I am quite, quite ready to sympathize if, so to speak, poverty moved Sofya Semyonovna, but why, mademoiselle, did you not want to confess? Were you afraid of the shame? The first step? You lost your head, perhaps? Understandable, sir; very understandable, sir... But why, however, did you embark on such behavior! Gentlemen!" he addressed all those present. "Gentlemen! Sympathizing and, so to speak, commiserating, I am perhaps ready to forgive, even now, despite the personal insults I have received. And may your present shame, mademoiselle, serve as a lesson to you for the future," he turned to Sonya. "As for the rest, I shall let the matter drop and so be it, I am finished. Enough!"
Pyotr Petrovich glanced sidelong at Raskolnikov. Their eyes met. Raskolnikov's burning gaze was ready to incinerate him. Meanwhile Katerina Ivanovna seemed to hear nothing more: she embraced and kissed Sonya like a madwoman. The children had also grasped Sonya from all sides with their little hands, and Polechka—not fully understanding what it was all about, however—seemed to be completely drowned in tears, sobbing convulsively and hiding her pretty little face, swollen from crying, on Sonya's shoulder.
"How base this is!" a loud voice suddenly rang out in the doorway.
Pyotr Petrovich quickly looked around.
"What baseness!" Lebeziatnikov repeated, staring him in the eye.
Pyotr Petrovich even seemed to start. Everyone noticed this. (They remembered it later.) Lebeziatnikov stepped into the room.
"And you dared to call me as a witness?" he said, approaching Pyotr Petrovich.
"What does this mean, Andrey Semyonovich? What are you talking about?" muttered Luzhin.
"It means that you... are a slanderer, that's what my words mean!" Lebeziatnikov said hotly, looking at him sternly with his nearsighted little eyes. He was terribly angry. Raskolnikov devoured him with his eyes, as if seizing upon and weighing every word. Again silence reigned. Pyotr Petrovich almost lost his composure, especially in the first moment.
"If you are addressing me..." he began, stammering. "But what's wrong with you? Are you in your right mind?"
"I'm in my right mind, sir, but you're... a scoundrel! Oh, how base this is! I listened to everything, I deliberately waited to understand everything, because I confess that even now it's not entirely logical... But why you did all this—I don't understand."
"But what did I do? Will you stop talking in your absurd riddles! Or perhaps you've been drinking?"
"It's you, base man, who may drink, not I! I never touch vodka at all, because it's against my convictions! Imagine, he, he himself, with his own hands gave that hundred-ruble note to Sofya Semyonovna—I saw it, I'm a witness, I'll take an oath! He, he!" repeated Lebeziatnikov, addressing everyone and each person.
"Have you gone mad or not, milksop?" squealed Luzhin. "She herself testified here before you, she herself here, just now, before everyone, confirmed that she received nothing from me except ten rubles. How then could I have given it to her?"
"I saw it, saw it!" shouted and confirmed Lebeziatnikov. "And though it's against my convictions, I'm ready this very instant to take whatever oath you like in court, because I saw how you slipped it to her on the sly! Only I, fool that I am, thought you were slipping it to her out of charity! At the door, as you were saying goodbye to her, when she turned around and you were shaking her hand with one hand, with the other, the left one, you slipped the note into her pocket on the sly. I saw it! I saw it!"
Luzhin turned pale.
"What are you lying about!" he cried insolently. "And how could you, standing at the window, make out the note? You imagined it... with your nearsighted eyes. You're raving!"
"No, I didn't imagine it! And though I was standing far away, I saw everything, everything, and though it's really difficult to make out a note from the window—you're right about that—I knew for certain by a special circumstance that it was precisely a hundred-ruble note, because when you started giving Sofya Semyonovna the ten-ruble note—I saw it myself—you took a hundred-ruble note from the table at the same time (I saw this because I was standing close then, and since a certain thought immediately occurred to me, I didn't forget that you had the note in your hand). You folded it and held it, clasped in your hand, the whole time. Then I almost forgot again, but when you started getting up, you transferred it from your right hand to your left and almost dropped it; I remembered again then because that same thought came to me again, namely that you wanted to do her a kindness secretly, without my knowledge. You can imagine how I began to watch—well, and I saw how you managed to slip it into her pocket. I saw it, saw it, I'll take an oath!"
Lebeziatnikov was almost choking. Diverse exclamations began to sound from all sides, mostly expressing amazement; but some exclamations also took on a threatening tone. Everyone pressed toward Pyotr Petrovich. Katerina Ivanovna rushed to Lebeziatnikov.
"Andrey Semyonovich! I was wrong about you! Protect her! You're the only one for her! She's an orphan, God sent you! Andrey Semyonovich, dear, dear man!"
And Katerina Ivanovna, scarcely aware of what she was doing, threw herself on her knees before him.
"Nonsense!" bellowed Luzhin, enraged to fury. "You're talking utter nonsense, sir. 'Forgot, remembered, forgot'—what does that mean! So I deliberately planted it on her? For what purpose? With what goal? What do I have in common with this..."
"Why? That's what I myself don't understand, but that I'm relating a true fact is certain! I'm so far from mistaken, you vile, criminal man, that I precisely remember how, on this account, a question immediately came into my head at that very time, precisely when I was thanking you and shaking your hand. Namely, why did you put it in her pocket secretly? That is, why precisely secretly? Could it be only because you wanted to hide it from me, knowing that I hold opposite convictions and deny private charity, which heals nothing radically? Well, I decided that you were indeed ashamed before me to give away such large sums, and besides, I thought perhaps, he wants to surprise her, to astonish her when she finds a whole hundred rubles in her pocket. (Because some philanthropists very much like to show off their good deeds that way; I know this.) Then it also occurred to me that you wanted to test her, that is, would she come to thank you when she found it? Then, that you wanted to avoid gratitude and so that, well, as they say: so that the right hand, or something, wouldn't know... in short, something like that... Well, any number of thoughts came into my head then, so that I decided to think it all over later, but still considered it indelicate to reveal to you that I knew the secret. But immediately another question came into my head: that Sofya Semyonovna might lose the money before noticing it, God forbid; that's why I decided to come here, call her out, and inform her that you had put a hundred rubles in her pocket. But on the way I first stopped at the Kobylatnikovs' room to take them the 'General Conclusion of the Positive Method' and especially to recommend Piderit's article (and Wagner's too, by the way); then I come here, and what a scene I find! Well, could I, could I have had all these thoughts and reasonings if I really hadn't seen you put a hundred rubles in her pocket?"
When Andrey Semyonovich finished his verbose reasoning, with such a logical conclusion at the end of his speech, he was terribly tired, and even perspiration rolled down his face. Alas, he couldn't even explain himself properly in Russian (not knowing any other language, however), so that he was somehow completely, all at once, exhausted, even seemed to have grown thin after his forensic feat. Nevertheless, his speech produced an extraordinary effect. He had spoken with such fervor, with such conviction, that everyone evidently believed him. Pyotr Petrovich felt that things were going badly.
"What do I care what stupid questions came into your head!" he cried. "That's no proof, sir! You could have dreamed all this up in your sleep, that's all, sir! And I tell you that you're lying, sir! Lying and slandering out of some spite against me, and precisely out of resentment that I wouldn't agree with your freethinking and godless social proposals, that's what, sir!"
But this turn did not benefit Pyotr Petrovich. On the contrary, grumbling was heard from all sides.
"Ah, so that's where you're headed!" cried Lebeziatnikov. "You're lying! Call the police and I'll take an oath! There's only one thing I can't understand: why he risked such a base act! O pitiful, vile man!"
"I can explain why he risked such an act, and if necessary, I'll take an oath myself!" Raskolnikov finally pronounced in a firm voice and stepped forward.
He appeared calm and firm. From merely looking at him, it somehow became clear to everyone that he really knew what this was about and that the denouement had arrived.
"Now everything is perfectly clear to me," continued Raskolnikov, addressing Lebeziatnikov directly. "From the very beginning of the affair I began to suspect that there was some vile trick here; I began to suspect owing to certain special circumstances known only to me, which I shall now explain to everyone: therein lies the whole matter! You, Andrey Semyonovich, with your precious testimony, have finally clarified everything for me. I ask everyone, everyone to listen: this gentleman (he pointed at Luzhin) recently became engaged to a young lady, namely to my sister, Avdotya Romanovna Raskolnikova. But upon arriving in Petersburg, the day before yesterday, at our first meeting, he quarreled with me, and I threw him out, for which there are two witnesses. This man is very malicious... The day before yesterday I didn't yet know that he was lodging here in your rooms, Andrey Semyonovich, and that consequently on that very same day when we quarreled, that is, the day before yesterday, he witnessed me giving, as a friend of the late Mr. Marmeladov, some money to his wife Katerina Ivanovna for the funeral. He immediately wrote a note to my mother and informed her that I had given all the money not to Katerina Ivanovna but to Sofya Semyonovna, and at the same time mentioned in the vilest terms... the character of Sofya Semyonovna, that is, hinted at the character of my relations with Sofya Semyonovna. All this, as you understand, with the aim of setting me against my mother and sister, suggesting to them that I was squandering, with dishonorable purposes, their last money with which they were helping me. Yesterday evening, in the presence of my mother and sister and in his presence, I restored the truth, proving that I had given the money to Katerina Ivanovna for the funeral and not to Sofya Semyonovna, and that the day before yesterday I wasn't yet even acquainted with Sofya Semyonovna and hadn't even seen her face. To this I added that he, Pyotr Petrovich Luzhin, with all his merits, wasn't worth Sofya Semyonovna's little finger, about whom he spoke so badly. To his question whether I would seat Sofya Semyonovna beside my sister, I answered that I had already done so that very day. Angered that my mother and sister didn't want to quarrel with me at his instigation, he, word for word, began saying unpardonable insolences to them. A final break occurred, and he was thrown out of the house. All this happened yesterday evening. Now I ask for special attention: imagine that if he had succeeded now in proving that Sofya Semyonovna was a thief, then, first, he would have proved to my sister and mother that he was almost right in his suspicions; that he was justified in getting angry because I placed my sister and Sofya Semyonovna on the same level; that in attacking me he was consequently defending and safeguarding the honor of my sister, his fiancée. In short, through all this he could even have quarreled me with my relatives again and, of course, hoped to get back into their good graces. I won't even mention that he was taking personal revenge on me, because he has grounds to suppose that the honor and happiness of Sofya Semyonovna are very dear to me. That was his whole calculation! That's how I understand this matter! That's the entire reason, and there can be no other!"
Thus or almost thus Raskolnikov ended his speech, frequently interrupted by exclamations from the public, which listened, however, very attentively. But despite all the interruptions, he spoke sharply, calmly, precisely, clearly, firmly. His harsh voice, his convinced tone, and his stern face produced an extraordinary effect on everyone.
"Yes, yes, it must be so!" Lebeziatnikov confirmed enthusiastically. "It must be so, because he precisely asked me, as soon as Sofya Semyonovna came into our room, 'are you here? Didn't I see you among Katerina Ivanovna's guests?' He called me aside to the window for this and asked me quietly. So it was absolutely necessary for him that you be here! That's it, that's exactly it!"
Luzhin was silent and smiled contemptuously. However, he was very pale. He seemed to be deliberating how to extricate himself. Perhaps he would have been glad to drop everything and leave, but at the present moment this was almost impossible; it would mean directly acknowledging the justice of the accusations brought against him and that he had indeed slandered Sofya Semyonovna. Moreover, the public, already somewhat drunk, was too agitated. The commissariat clerk, though not understanding everything, was shouting louder than anyone and proposing certain measures very unpleasant for Luzhin. But there were also sober people; they had gathered and assembled from all the rooms. All three Poles were terribly excited and kept shouting at him: "panie laidak!" while muttering some threats in Polish. Sonya had been listening with intense attention but as if she too didn't understand everything, as if waking from a faint. She simply didn't take her eyes off Raskolnikov, feeling that all her defense lay in him. Katerina Ivanovna was breathing with difficulty and hoarsely and seemed to be in terrible exhaustion. Amalia Ivanovna stood most stupidly of all, with her mouth hanging open and comprehending absolutely nothing. She only saw that Pyotr Petrovich had somehow been caught. Raskolnikov tried to speak again, but they wouldn't let him finish: everyone was shouting and crowding around Luzhin with curses and threats. But Pyotr Petrovich didn't lose his nerve. Seeing that the case of accusing Sonya was completely lost, he directly resorted to impudence.
"Allow me, gentlemen, allow me; don't crowd, let me pass!" he said, making his way through the crowd. "And do me the favor of not threatening; I assure you that nothing will happen, you'll do nothing, I'm not of the timid sort, sir, but on the contrary, you yourselves, gentlemen, will answer for concealing a criminal case by force. The thief is more than exposed, and I shall prosecute, sir. In court they are not so blind and... not drunk, sir, and will not believe two notorious atheists, agitators, and freethinkers accusing me out of personal revenge, as they themselves, in their stupidity, confess... Yes, sir, allow me, sir!"
"I want not a trace of you left in my room this instant; be so good as to move out, and everything between us is finished! And when I think that I knocked myself out explaining to him... for two whole weeks!..."
"Why, I told you myself, Andrey Semyonovich, just now that I was moving out, when you were still trying to keep me; now I'll only add that you're a fool, sir. I wish you to cure your mind and your nearsighted eyes. Allow me, gentlemen, sir!"
He pushed through; but the commissariat clerk didn't want to let him off so easily with only curses: he grabbed a glass from the table, swung it, and sent it flying at Pyotr Petrovich; but the glass flew straight at Amalia Ivanovna. She shrieked, and the commissariat clerk, losing his balance from the swing, fell heavily under the table. Pyotr Petrovich went to his room, and half an hour later he was no longer in the house. Sonya, timid by nature, had known before that she could be destroyed more easily than anyone else, and that anyone could offend her almost with impunity. But still, until this very moment, it had seemed to her that she could somehow avoid disaster—by caution, meekness, submissiveness before everyone and anyone. Her disillusionment was too heavy. She could, of course, endure everything patiently and almost without complaint—even this. But in the first moment it was too hard. Despite her triumph and her vindication—when the first fright and first stupor had passed, when she understood and grasped everything clearly—the feeling of helplessness and injury painfully constricted her heart. She became hysterical. Finally, unable to bear it, she rushed out of the room and ran home. This was almost immediately after Luzhin's departure. Amalia Ivanovna, when the glass hit her amid the loud laughter of those present, also couldn't bear to suffer at someone else's feast. With a shriek, like a madwoman, she rushed at Katerina Ivanovna, considering her to blame for everything:
"Out of apartment! This instant! March!" And with these words she began grabbing everything that came to hand of Katerina Ivanovna's things and throwing them on the floor. Almost killed as it was, nearly in a faint, breathless, pale, Katerina Ivanovna jumped up from the bed (onto which she had collapsed in exhaustion) and threw herself at Amalia Ivanovna. But the struggle was too unequal; she pushed her away like a feather.
"What! It's not enough that they godlessly slandered her—this creature comes at me too! What! On the day of my husband's funeral they drive me from the apartment, after my hospitality, into the street, with orphans! But where shall I go!" wailed the poor woman, sobbing and gasping. "Lord!" she suddenly cried, her eyes flashing. "Is there really no justice! Whom else should You protect if not us orphans? But we'll see! There is law and justice on earth, there is, I'll find it! Just wait, godless creature! Polechka, stay with the children, I'll be back. Wait for me, even in the street! We'll see whether there's justice in the world!"
And throwing over her head that same green drap de dames shawl mentioned in his story by the late Marmeladov, Katerina Ivanovna pushed her way through the disorderly drunken crowd of tenants still thronging the room and, with a wail and with tears, ran out into the street—with the vague purpose of finding justice somewhere immediately, at once, and at any cost. Polechka huddled in fright with the children in the corner on the trunk, where, embracing the two little ones, trembling all over, she began to wait for her mother's return. Amalia Ivanovna rushed about the room, shrieking, wailing, throwing everything that came to hand onto the floor, and making a scene. The tenants were bawling at cross purposes—some finishing what they could about the incident that had occurred; others quarreling and cursing; still others struck up songs...
"And now it's time for me too!" thought Raskolnikov. "Well then, Sofya Semyonovna, let's see what you'll say now!"
And he set off for Sonya's apartment.