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nights！。。。 What's the use of talking of forgiveness！ I have forgiven
as it is！〃
A terrible hollow cough interrupted her words。 She put her
handkerchief to her lips and showed it to the priest； pressing her
other hand to her aching chest。 The handkerchief was covered with
blood。 The priest bowed his head and said nothing。
Marmeladov was in the last agony； he did not take his eyes off the
face of Katerina Ivanovna； who was bending over him again。 He kept
trying to say something to her； he began moving his tongue with
difficulty and articulating indistinctly； but Katerina Ivanovna；
understanding that he wanted to ask her forgiveness； called
peremptorily to him：
〃Be silent！ No need！ I know what you want to say！〃 And the sick
man was silent； but at the same instant his wandering eyes strayed
to the doorway and he saw Sonia。
Till then he had not noticed her： she was standing in the shadow
in a corner。
〃Who's that？ Who's that？〃 he said suddenly in a thick gasping voice；
in agitation； turning his eyes in horror towards the door where his
daughter was standing； and trying to sit up。
〃Lie down！ Lie do…own！〃 cried Katerina Ivanovna。
With unnatural strength he had succeeded in propping himself on
his elbow。 He looked wildly and fixedly for some time on his daughter；
as though not recognising her。 He had never seen her before in such
attire。 Suddenly he recognised her； crushed and ashamed in her
humiliation and gaudy finery； meekly awaiting her turn to say good…bye
to her dying father。 His face showed intense suffering。
〃Sonia！ Daughter！ Forgive！〃 he cried； and he tried to hold out his
hand to her； but losing his balance； he fell off the sofa； face
downwards on the floor。 They rushed to pick him up； they put him on
the sofa； but he was dying。 Sonia with a faint cry ran up； embraced
him and remained so without moving。 He died in her arms。
〃He's got what he wanted；〃 Katerina Ivanovna cried； seeing her
husband's dead body。 〃Well； what's to be done now？ How am I to bury
him！ What can I give them to…morrow to eat？〃
Raskolnikov went up to Katerina Ivanovna。
〃Katerina Ivanovna；〃 he began； 〃last week your husband told me all
his life and circumstances。。。。 Believe me； he spoke of you with
passionate reverence。 From that evening； when I learnt how devoted
he was to you all and how he loved and respected you especially；
Katerina Ivanovna； in spite of his unfortunate weakness； from that
evening we became friends。。。。 Allow me now。。。 to do something。。。 to
repay my debt to my dead friend。 Here are twenty roubles I think…
and if that can be of any assistance to you； then。。。 I。。。 in short；
I will come again； I will be sure to come again。。。 I shall； perhaps；
come again to…morrow。。。。 Good…bye！〃
And he went quickly out of the room； squeezing his way through the
crowd to the stairs。 But in the crowd he suddenly jostled against
Nikodim Fomitch； who had heard of the accident and had come to give
instructions in person。 They had not met since the scene at the police
station； but Nikodim Fomitch knew him instantly。
〃Ah； is that you？〃 he asked him。
〃He's dead；〃 answered Raskolnikov。 〃The doctor and the priest have
been； all as it should have been。 Don't worry the poor woman too much；
she is in consumption as it is。 Try and cheer her up； if possible。。。
you are a kind…hearted man； I know。。。〃 he added with a smile；
looking straight in his face。
〃But you are spattered with blood；〃 observed Nikodim Fomitch；
noticing in the lamplight some fresh stains on Raskolnikov's
waistcoat。
〃Yes。。。 I'm covered with blood；〃 Raskolnikov said with a peculiar
air； then he smiled； nodded and went downstairs。
He walked down slowly and deliberately； feverish but not conscious
of it； entirely absorbed in a new overwhelming sensation of life and
strength that surged up suddenly within him。 This sensation might be
compared to that of a man condemned to death who has suddenly been
pardoned。 Halfway down the staircase he was overtaken by the priest on
his way home； Raskolnikov let him pass； exchanging a silent greeting
with him。 He was just descending the last steps when he heard rapid
footsteps behind him。 Some one overtook him； it was Polenka。 She was
running after him； calling 〃Wait！ wait！〃
He turned round。 She was at the bottom of the staircase and
stopped short a step above him。 A dim light came in from the yard。
Raskolnikov could distinguish the child's thin but pretty little face；
looking at him with a bright childish smile。 She had run after him
with a message which she was evidently glad to give。
〃Tell me； what is your name？。。。 and where do you live？〃 she said
hurriedly in a breathless voice。
He laid both hands on her shoulders and looked at her with a sort of
rapture。 It was such a joy to him to look at her； he could not have
said why。
〃Who sent you？〃
〃Sister Sonia sent me；〃 answered the girl； smiling still more
brightly。
〃I knew it was sister Sonia sent you。〃
〃Mamma sent me； too。。。 when sister Sonia was sending me； mamma
came up； too； and said 'Run fast； Polenka。'〃
〃Do you love sister Sonia？〃
〃I love her more than any one；〃 Polenka answered with a peculiar
earnestness； and her smile became graver。
〃And will you love me？〃
By way of answer he saw the little girl's face approaching him；
her full lips naively held out to kiss him。 Suddenly her arms as
thin as sticks