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shawls； and hot stoves to sleep on… as snug as though you were dead；
and yet you're alive… the advantages of both at once！ Well； hang it；
brother； what stuff I'm talking； it's bedtime！ Listen。 I sometimes
wake up at night； so I'll go in and look at him。 But there's no
need； it's all right。 Don't you worry yourself； yet if you like； you
might just look in once； too。 But if you notice anything； delirium
or fever… wake me at once。 But there can't be。。。。〃
Chapter Two
RAZUMIHIN waked up next morning at eight o'clock； troubled and
serious。 He found himself confronted with many new and unlooked…for
perplexities。 He had never expected that he would ever wake up feeling
like that。 He remembered every detail of the previous day and he
knew that a perfectly novel experience had befallen him； that he had
received an impression unlike anything he had known before。 At the
same time he recognised clearly that the dream which had fired his
imagination was hopelessly unattainable… so unattainable that he
felt positively ashamed of it； and he hastened to pass to the other
more practical cares and difficulties bequeathed him by that 〃thrice
accursed yesterday。〃
The most awful recollection of the previous day was the way he had
shown himself 〃base and mean；〃 not only because he had been drunk； but
because he had taken advantage of the young girl's position to abuse
her fiance in his stupid jealousy； knowing nothing of their mutual
relations and obligations and next to nothing of the man himself。
And what right had he to criticise him in that hasty and unguarded
manner？ Who had asked for his opinion！ Was it thinkable that such a
creature as Avdotya Romanovna would be marrying an unworthy man for
money？ So there must be something in him。 The lodgings？ But after
all how could he know the character of the lodgings？ He was furnishing
a flat。。。 Foo； how despicable it all was！ And what justification was
it that he was drunk？ Such a stupid excuse was even more degrading！ In
wine is truth； and the truth had all come out； 〃that is； all the
uncleanness of his coarse and envious heart！〃 And would such a dream
ever be permissible to him； Razumihin？ What was he beside such a girl…
he； the drunken noisy braggart of last night？ 〃Was it possible to
imagine so absurd and cynical a juxtaposition？〃 Razumihin blushed
desperately at the very idea and suddenly the recollection forced
itself vividly upon him of how he had said last night on the stairs
that the landlady would be jealous of Avdotya Romanovna。。。 that was
simply intolerable。 He brought his fist down heavily on the kitchen
stove； hurt his hand and sent one of the bricks flying。
〃Of course；〃 he muttered to himself a minute later with a feeling of
self…abasement； 〃of course； all these infamies can never be wiped
out or smoothed over。。。 and so it's useless even to think of it； and I
must go to them in silence and do my duty。。。 in silence； too。。。。 and
not ask forgiveness； and say nothing。。。 for all is lost now！〃
And yet as he dressed he examined his attire more carefully than
usual。 He hadn't another suit… if he had had； perhaps he wouldn't have
put it on。 〃I would have made a point of not putting it on。〃 But in
any case he could not remain a cynic and a dirty sloven； he had no
right to offend the feelings of others； especially when they were in
need of his assistance and asking him to see them。 He brushed his
clothes carefully。 His linen was always decent； in that respect he was
especially clean。
He washed that morning scrupulously… he got some soap from Nastasya…
he washed his hair； his neck and especially his hands。 When it came to
the question whether to shave his stubby chin or not （Praskovya
Pavlovna had capital razors that had been left by her late husband）；
the question was angrily answered in the negative。 〃Let it stay as
it is！ What if they think that I shaved on purpose to。。。？ They
certainly would think so！ Not on any account！〃
〃And。。。 the worst of it was he was so coarse； so dirty； he had the
manners of a pothouse； and。。。 and even admitting that he knew he had
some of the essentials of a gentleman。。。 what was there in that to
be proud of？ Every one ought to be a gentleman and more than that。。。
and all the same （he remembered） he； too； had done little things。。。
not exactly dishonest； and yet。。。。 and what thoughts he sometimes had；
hm。。。 and to set all that beside Avdotya Romanovna！ Confound it！ So be
it！ Well； he'd make a point then of being dirty； greasy； pothouse in
his manners and he wouldn't care！ He'd be worse！〃
He was engaged in such monologues when Zossimov； who had spent the
night in Praskovya Pavlovna's parlour； came in。
He was going home and was in a hurry to look at the invalid first。
Razumihin informed him that Raskolnikov was sleeping like a
dormouse。 Zossimov gave orders that they shouldn't wake him and
promised to see him again about eleven。
〃If he is still at home；〃 he added。 〃Damn it all！ If one can't
control one's patients； how is one to cure them！ Do you know whether
he will go to them； or whether they are coming here？〃
〃They are coming； I think；〃 said Razumihin； understanding the object
of the question； 〃and they will discuss their family affairs； no
doubt。 I'll be off。 You； as the doctor； have more right to be here
than I。〃
〃But I am not a father confessor； I shall come and go away； I've
plenty to do besides looking after them。〃
〃One thing worries me；〃 interposed Razumihin； frowning。 〃On the
way home I talked a lot of drunken nonsense to him。。。 all sort of
things。。。 and amongst them that you were afraid that he。。。 might
become insane。〃
〃You told the ladies so； too。〃
〃I know it was stupid！ You may beat me if you like！ Did you think so
seriously？〃
〃That's nonsense； I tell you； how could I think it seriously！ You；
yourself； described him as a monomaniac when you fetched me to
him。。。 and we added fuel to the fire yesterday； you did； that is； with
your story about the painter； it was a nice conversation； when he was；
perhaps； mad on that very point！ If only I'd known what happened
then at the police station and that some wretch。。。 had insulted him
with this suspicion！ Hm。。。 I would not have allowed that
conversation yesterday。 These monomaniacs will make a mountain out
of a molehill。。。 and see their fancies as solid realities。。。。 As far
as I remember； it was Zametov's story that cleared up half the mystery
to my mind。 Why； I know one case in which a hypochondriac； a man of
forty； cut the throat of a little boy of eight； because he couldn't
endure the jokes he made every day at table！ And in this case his
rags； the insolent police officer； the fever and this suspicion！ All
that working upon a man half frantic with hypochondria； and with his
morbid exceptional vanity！ That may well have been the
starting…point of illness。 Well； bother it all！。。。 And； by the way；
that Zametov certainly is a nice fellow； but hm。。。 he shouldn't have
told all that last night。 He is an awful chatterbox！〃
〃But whom did he tell it to？ You and me？〃
〃And Porfiry。〃
〃What does that matter？〃
〃And； by the way； have you any influence on them； his mother and
sister？ Tell them to be more careful with him to…day。。。。〃
〃They'll get on all right！〃 Razumihin answered reluctantly。
〃Why is he so set against thi