Злочин та покарання

Chapter 8

           “IfImustdrinkthecupwhatdifferencedoesitmake?Themorerevoltingthebetter.”Heimaginedforaninstantthefigureofthe“explosivelieutenant,”IlyaPetrovitch.Washeactuallygoingtohim?Couldn’thegotosomeoneelse?ToNikodimFomitch?Couldn’theturnbackandgostraighttoNikodimFomitch’slodgings?Atleastthenitwouldbedoneprivately....No,no!Tothe“explosivelieutenant”!Ifhemustdrinkit,drinkitoffatonce.

           Turningcoldandhardlyconscious,heopenedthedooroftheoffice.Therewereveryfewpeopleinitthistimeonlyahouseporterandapeasant.Thedoorkeeperdidnotevenpeepoutfrombehindhisscreen.Raskolnikovwalkedintothenextroom.“PerhapsIstillneednotspeak,”passedthroughhismind.Somesortofclerknotwearingauniformwassettlinghimselfatabureautowrite.Inacorneranotherclerkwasseatinghimself.Zametovwasnotthere,nor,ofcourse,NikodimFomitch.

           “Noonein?”Raskolnikovasked,addressingthepersonatthebureau.

           “Whomdoyouwant?”

           “A-ah!Notasoundwasheard,notasightwasseen,butIscenttheRussian...howdoesitgooninthefairytale...I’veforgotten!‘Atyourservice!’”afamiliarvoicecriedsuddenly.

           Raskolnikovshuddered.TheExplosiveLieutenantstoodbeforehim.Hehadjustcomeinfromthethirdroom.“Itisthehandoffate,”thoughtRaskolnikov.“Whyishehere?”

           “You’vecometoseeus?Whatabout?”criedIlyaPetrovitch.Hewasobviouslyinanexceedinglygoodhumourandperhapsatrifleexhilarated.

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