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〃I have sinned；〃 the man articulated softly。
〃By evil thoughts。〃
They looked at one another。
〃I was vexed。 When you came； perhaps in drink； and bade the
porters go to the police station and asked about the blood； I was
vexed that they let you go and took you for drunken。 I was so vexed
that I lost my sleep。 And remembering the address we came here
yesterday and asked for you。。。。〃
〃Who came？〃 Raskolnikov interrupted； instantly beginning to
recollect。
〃I did； I've wronged you。〃
〃Then you came from that house？〃
〃I was standing at the gate with them。。。 don't you remember？ We have
carried on our trade in that house for years past。 We cure and prepare
hides； we take work home。。。 most of all I was vexed。。。。〃
And the whole scene of the day before yesterday in the gateway
came clearly before Raskolnikov's mind； he recollected that there
had been several people there besides the porters； women among them。
He remembered one voice had suggested taking him straight to the
police station。 He could not recall the face of the speaker； and
even now he did not recognise it； but he remembered that he had turned
round and made him some answer。。。。
So this was the solution of yesterday's horror。 The most awful
thought was that he had been actually almost lost； had almost done for
himself on account of such a trivial circumstance。 So this man could
tell nothing except his asking about the flat and the blood stains。 So
Porfiry； too； had nothing but that delirium； no facts but this
psychology which cuts both ways； nothing positive。 So if no more facts
come to light （and they must not； they must not！） then。。。 then what
can they do to him？ How can they convict him； even if they arrest him？
And Porfiry then had only just heard about the flat and had not
known about it before。
〃Was it you who told Porfiry。。。 that I'd been there？〃 he cried；
struck by a sudden idea。
〃What Porfiry？〃
〃The head of the detective department？〃
〃Yes。 The porters did not go there； but I went。〃
〃To…day？〃
〃I got there two minutes before you。 And I heard； I heard it all；
how he worried you。〃
〃Where？ What？ When？〃
〃Why； in the next room。 I was sitting there all the time。〃
PART FIVE
Chapter One
THE MORNING that followed the fateful interview with Dounia and
her mother brought sobering influences to bear on Pyotr Petrovitch。
Intensely unpleasant as it was； he was forced little by little to
accept as a fact beyond recall what had seemed to him only the day
before fantastic and incredible。 The black snake of wounded vanity had
been gnawing at his heart all night。 When he got out of bed； Pyotr
Petrovitch immediately looked in the looking…glass。 He was afraid that
he had jaundice。 However his health seemed unimpaired so far； and
looking at his noble； clear…skinned countenance which had grown
fattish of late； Pyotr Petrovitch for an instant was positively
comforted in the conviction that he would find another bride and；
perhaps； even a better one。 But coming back to the sense of his
present position； he turned aside and spat vigorously； which excited a
sarcastic smile in Andrey Semyonovitch Lebeziatnikov； the young friend
with whom he was staying。 That smile Pyotr Petrovitch noticed； and
at once set it down against his young friend's account。 He had set
down a good many points against him of late。 His anger was redoubled
when he reflected that he ought not to have told Andrey Semyonovitch
about the result of yesterday's interview。 That was the second mistake
he had made in temper； through impulsiveness and irritability。。。。
Moreover； all that morning one unpleasantness followed another。 He
even found a hitch awaiting him in his legal case in the Senate。 He
was particularly irritated by the owner of the flat which had been
taken in view of his approaching marriage and was being redecorated at
his own expense； the owner； a rich German tradesman； would not
entertain the idea of breaking the contract which had just been signed
and insisted on the full forfeit money； though Pyotr Petrovitch
would be giving him back the flat practically redecorated。 In the same
way the upholsterers refused to return a single rouble of the
instalment paid for the furniture purchased but not yet removed to the
flat。
〃Am I to get married simply for the sake of the furniture？〃 Pyotr
Petrovitch ground his teeth and at the same time once more he had a
gleam of desperate hope。 〃Can all that be really so irrevocably
over？ Is it no use to make another effort？〃 The thought of Dounia sent
a voluptuous pang through his heart。 He endured anguish at that
moment； and if it had been possible to slay Raskolnikov instantly by
wishing it； Pyotr Petrovitch would promptly have uttered the wish。
〃It was my mistake； too； not to have given them money；〃 he
thought； as he returned dejectedly to Lebeziatnikov's room； 〃and why
on earth was I such a Jew？ It was false economy！ I meant to keep
them without a penny so that they should turn to me as their
providence； and look at them！ Foo！ If I'd spent some fifteen hundred
roubles on them for the trousseau and presents； on knick…knacks；
dressing…cases； jewellery； materials； and all that sort of trash
from Knopp's and the English shop； my position would have been
better and。。。 stronger！ They could not have refused me so easily！ They
are the s