PART V
2. CHAPTER II
(continued)
"Yes, he was fond of drink, he was fond of it, he did drink!" cried
the commissariat clerk, gulping down his twelfth glass of vodka.
"My late husband certainly had that weakness, and everyone knows it,"
Katerina Ivanovna attacked him at once, "but he was a kind and
honourable man, who loved and respected his family. The worst of it
was his good nature made him trust all sorts of disreputable people,
and he drank with fellows who were not worth the sole of his shoe.
Would you believe it, Rodion Romanovitch, they found a gingerbread
cock in his pocket; he was dead drunk, but he did not forget the
children!"
"A cock? Did you say a cock?" shouted the commissariat clerk.
Katerina Ivanovna did not vouchsafe a reply. She sighed, lost in
thought.
"No doubt you think, like everyone, that I was too severe with him,"
she went on, addressing Raskolnikov. "But that's not so! He respected
me, he respected me very much! He was a kind-hearted man! And how
sorry I was for him sometimes! He would sit in a corner and look at
me, I used to feel so sorry for him, I used to want to be kind to him
and then would think to myself: 'Be kind to him and he will drink
again,' it was only by severity that you could keep him within
bounds."
"Yes, he used to get his hair pulled pretty often," roared the
commissariat clerk again, swallowing another glass of vodka.
"Some fools would be the better for a good drubbing, as well as having
their hair pulled. I am not talking of my late husband now!" Katerina
Ivanovna snapped at him.
The flush on her cheeks grew more and more marked, her chest heaved.
In another minute she would have been ready to make a scene. Many of
the visitors were sniggering, evidently delighted. They began poking
the commissariat clerk and whispering something to him. They were
evidently trying to egg him on.
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