| PART II
6. CHAPTER VI
 (continued)"I'll always be pleased to spend an hour with you, kind gentleman, but
 now I feel shy. Give me six copecks for a drink, there's a nice young
 man!" Raskolnikov gave her what came first--fifteen copecks. "Ah, what a good-natured gentleman!" "What's your name?" "Ask for Duclida." "Well, that's too much," one of the women observed, shaking her head
 at Duclida. "I don't know how you can ask like that. I believe I
 should drop with shame. . . ." Raskolnikov looked curiously at the speaker. She was a pock-marked
 wench of thirty, covered with bruises, with her upper lip swollen. She
 made her criticism quietly and earnestly. "Where is it," thought
 Raskolnikov. "Where is it I've read that someone condemned to death
 says or thinks, an hour before his death, that if he had to live on
 some high rock, on such a narrow ledge that he'd only room to stand,
 and the ocean, everlasting darkness, everlasting solitude, everlasting
 tempest around him, if he had to remain standing on a square yard of
 space all his life, a thousand years, eternity, it were better to live
 so than to die at once! Only to live, to live and live! Life, whatever
 it may be! . . . How true it is! Good God, how true! Man is a vile
 creature! . . . And vile is he who calls him vile for that," he added
 a moment later. He went into another street. "Bah, the Palais de Cristal! Razumihin
 was just talking of the Palais de Cristal. But what on earth was it I
 wanted? Yes, the newspapers. . . . Zossimov said he'd read it in the
 papers. Have you the papers?" he asked, going into a very spacious and
 positively clean restaurant, consisting of several rooms, which were,
 however, rather empty. Two or three people were drinking tea, and in a
 room further away were sitting four men drinking champagne.
 Raskolnikov fancied that Zametov was one of them, but he could not be
 sure at that distance. "What if it is?" he thought. "Will you have vodka?" asked the waiter. |