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the gathering twilight； at one distant attic window on the left
bank； flashing as though on fire in the last rays of the setting
sun； at the darkening water of the canal； and the water seemed to
catch his attention。 At last red circles flashed before his eyes；
the houses seemed moving； the passers…by； the canal banks； the
carriages； all danced before his eyes。 Suddenly he started； saved
again perhaps from swooning by an uncanny and hideous sight。 He became
aware of some one standing on the right side of him； he looked and saw
a tall woman with a kerchief on her head； with a long； yellow；
wasted face and red sunken eyes。 She was looking straight at him；
but obviously she saw nothing and recognized no one。 Suddenly she
leaned her right hand on the parapet； lifted her right leg over the
railing； then her left and threw herself into the canal。 The filthy
water parted and swallowed up its victim for a moment； but an
instant later the drowning woman floated to the surface； moving slowly
with the current； her head and legs in the water； her skirt inflated
like a balloon over her back。
〃A woman drowning！ A woman drowning！〃 shouted dozens of voices；
people ran up； both banks were thronged with spectators； on the bridge
people crowded about Raskolnikov； pressing up behind him。
〃Mercy on it！ it's our Afrosinya！〃 a woman cried tearfully close by。
〃Mercy！ save her！ kind people； pull her out！〃
〃A boat； a boat〃 was shouted in the crowd。 But there was no need
of a boat； a policeman ran down the steps to the canal； threw off
his great coat and his boots and rushed into the water。 It was easy to
reach her； she floated within a couple of yards from the steps； he
caught hold of her clothes with his right hand and with his left
seized a pole which a comrade held out to him； the drowning woman
was pulled out at once。 They laid her on the granite pavement of the
embankment。 She soon recovered consciousness； raised her head； sat
up and began sneezing and coughing； stupidly wiping her wet dress with
her hands。 She said nothing。
〃She's drunk herself out of her senses；〃 the same woman's voice
wailed at her side。 〃Out of her senses。 The other day she tried to
hang herself； we cut her down。 I ran out to the shop just now； left my
little girl to look after her… and here she's in trouble again！ A
neighbour； gentleman neighbour； we live close by； the second house
from the end； see yonder。。。。〃
The crowd broke up。 The police still remained round the woman；
some one mentioned the police station。。。。 Raskolnikov looked on with a
strange sensation of indifference and apathy。 He felt disgusted。
〃No； that's loathsome。。。 water。。。 it's not good enough；〃 he muttered
to himself。 〃Nothing will come of it；〃 he added； 〃no use to wait。 What
about the police office。。。？ And why isn't Zametov at the police
office？ The police office is open till ten o'clock。。。。〃 He turned
his back to the railing and looked about him。
〃Very well then！〃 he said resolutely； he moved from the bridge and
walked in the direction of the police office。 His heart felt hollow
and empty。 He did not want to think。 Even his depression had passed；
there was not a trace now of the energy with which he had set out
〃to make an end of it all。〃 Complete apathy had succeeded to it。
〃Well； it's a way out of it；〃 he thought； walking slowly and
listlessly along the canal bank。 〃Anyway I'll make an end； for I
want to。。。。 But is it a way out？ What does it matter！ There'll be
the square yard of space… ha！ But what an end！ Is it really the end？
Shall I tell them or not？ Ah。。。 damn！ How tired I am！ If I could
find somewhere to sit or lie down soon！ What I am most ashamed of is
its being so stupid。 But I don't care about that either！ What
idiotic ideas come into one's head。〃
To reach the police office he had to go straight forward and take
the second turning to the left。 It was only a few paces away。 But at
the first turning he stopped and； after a minute's thought； turned
into a side street and went two streets out of his way； possibly
without any object； or possibly to delay a minute and gain time。 He
walked； looking at the ground； suddenly some one seemed to whisper
in his ear； he lifted his head and saw that he was standing at the
very gate of the house。 He had not passed it； he had not been near
it since that evening。 An overwhelming unaccountable prompting drew
him on。 He went into the house； passed through the gateway； then
into the first entrance on the right； and began mounting the
familiar staircase to the fourth storey。 The narrow； steep staircase
was very dark。 He stopped at each landing and looked round him with
curiosity； on the first landing the framework of the window had been
taken out。 〃That wasn't so then；〃 he thought。 Here was the flat on the
second storey where Nikolay and Dmitri had been working。 〃It's shut up
and the door newly painted。 So it's to let。〃 Then the third storey and
the fourth。 〃Here！〃 He was perplexed to find the door of the flat wide
open。 There were men there； he could hear voices； he had not
expected that。 After brief hesitation he mounted the last stairs and
went into the flat。 It； too； was being done up； there were workmen
in it。 This seemed to amaze him； he somehow fancied that he would find
everything as he left it； even perhaps the corpses in the same
places on the floor。 And now； bare walls； no furniture； it seemed
strange。 He walked to the window and sat down on the window sill。
There were two workmen； both young fellows； but one much younger
than the other。 They were papering the walls with a new white paper
covered with lilac flowers； instead of the old； dirty； yellow one。
Raskolnikov for some reason felt horribly annoyed by this。 He looked
at the new paper with dislike； as though he felt sorry to have it
all so changed。 The workmen had obviously stayed beyond their time and
now they were hurriedly rolling up their paper and getting ready to go
home。 They took no notice of Raskolnikov's coming in； they were
talking。 Raskolnikov folded his arms and listened。
〃She comes t