PART III
3. CHAPTER III
(continued)
"I don't know how to thank him either," Raskolnikov went on, suddenly
frowning and looking down. "Setting aside the question of payment--
forgive me for referring to it (he turned to Zossimov)--I really don't
know what I have done to deserve such special attention from you! I
simply don't understand it . . . and . . . and . . . it weighs upon
me, indeed, because I don't understand it. I tell you so candidly."
"Don't be irritated." Zossimov forced himself to laugh. "Assume that
you are my first patient--well--we fellows just beginning to practise
love our first patients as if they were our children, and some almost
fall in love with them. And, of course, I am not rich in patients."
"I say nothing about him," added Raskolnikov, pointing to Razumihin,
"though he has had nothing from me either but insult and trouble."
"What nonsense he is talking! Why, you are in a sentimental mood
to-day, are you?" shouted Razumihin.
If he had had more penetration he would have seen that there was no
trace of sentimentality in him, but something indeed quite the
opposite. But Avdotya Romanovna noticed it. She was intently and
uneasily watching her brother.
"As for you, mother, I don't dare to speak," he went on, as though
repeating a lesson learned by heart. "It is only to-day that I have
been able to realise a little how distressed you must have been here
yesterday, waiting for me to come back."
When he had said this, he suddenly held out his hand to his sister,
smiling without a word. But in this smile there was a flash of real
unfeigned feeling. Dounia caught it at once, and warmly pressed his
hand, overjoyed and thankful. It was the first time he had addressed
her since their dispute the previous day. The mother's face lighted up
with ecstatic happiness at the sight of this conclusive unspoken
reconciliation. "Yes, that is what I love him for," Razumihin,
exaggerating it all, muttered to himself, with a vigorous turn in his
chair. "He has these movements."
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