PART IV
1. CHAPTER I
(continued)
"What do you mean by 'the man?' What are you talking about?" cried
Raskolnikov.
"What do I mean? I really don't know. . . ." Svidrigailov muttered
ingenuously, as though he, too, were puzzled.
For a minute they were silent. They stared in each other's faces.
"That's all nonsense!" Raskolnikov shouted with vexation. "What does
she say when she comes to you?"
"She! Would you believe it, she talks of the silliest trifles and--man
is a strange creature--it makes me angry. The first time she came in
(I was tired you know: the funeral service, the funeral ceremony, the
lunch afterwards. At last I was left alone in my study. I lighted a
cigar and began to think), she came in at the door. 'You've been so
busy to-day, Arkady Ivanovitch, you have forgotten to wind the dining-room clock,' she said. All those seven years I've wound that clock
every week, and if I forgot it she would always remind me. The next
day I set off on my way here. I got out at the station at daybreak;
I'd been asleep, tired out, with my eyes half open, I was drinking
some coffee. I looked up and there was suddenly Marfa Petrovna sitting
beside me with a pack of cards in her hands. 'Shall I tell your
fortune for the journey, Arkady Ivanovitch?' She was a great hand at
telling fortunes. I shall never forgive myself for not asking her to.
I ran away in a fright, and, besides, the bell rang. I was sitting
to-day, feeling very heavy after a miserable dinner from a cookshop; I
was sitting smoking, all of a sudden Marfa Petrovna again. She came in
very smart in a new green silk dress with a long train. 'Good day,
Arkady Ivanovitch! How do you like my dress? Aniska can't make like
this.' (Aniska was a dressmaker in the country, one of our former serf
girls who had been trained in Moscow, a pretty wench.) She stood
turning round before me. I looked at the dress, and then I looked
carefully, very carefully, at her face. 'I wonder you trouble to come
to me about such trifles, Marfa Petrovna.' 'Good gracious, you won't
let one disturb you about anything!' To tease her I said, 'I want to
get married, Marfa Petrovna.' 'That's just like you, Arkady
Ivanovitch; it does you very little credit to come looking for a bride
when you've hardly buried your wife. And if you could make a good
choice, at least, but I know it won't be for your happiness or hers,
you will only be a laughing-stock to all good people.' Then she went
out and her train seemed to rustle. Isn't it nonsense, eh?"
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