Chapter 2

           Hewasillalongtime.Butitwasnotthehorrorsofprisonlife,notthehardlabour,thebadfood,theshavenhead,orthepatchedclothesthatcrushedhim.Whatdidhecareforallthosetrialsandhardships!hewasevengladofthehardwork.Physicallyexhausted,hecouldatleastreckononafewhoursofquietsleep.Andwhatwasthefoodtohimthethincabbagesoupwithbeetlesfloatinginit?Inthepastasastudenthehadoftennothadeventhat.Hisclotheswerewarmandsuitedtohismanneroflife.Hedidnotevenfeelthefetters.Washeashamedofhisshavenheadandparti-colouredcoat?Beforewhom?BeforeSonia?Soniawasafraidofhim,howcouldhebeashamedbeforeher?AndyethewasashamedevenbeforeSonia,whomhetorturedbecauseofitwithhiscontemptuousroughmanner.Butitwasnothisshavenheadandhisfettershewasashamedof:hispridehadbeenstungtothequick.Itwaswoundedpridethatmadehimill.Oh,howhappyhewouldhavebeenifhecouldhaveblamedhimself!Hecouldhaveborneanythingthen,evenshameanddisgrace.Buthejudgedhimselfseverely,andhisexasperatedconsciencefoundnoparticularlyterriblefaultinhispast,exceptasimpleblunderwhichmighthappentoanyone.Hewasashamedjustbecausehe,Raskolnikov,hadsohopelessly,stupidlycometogriefthroughsomedecreeofblindfate,andmusthumblehimselfandsubmitto“theidiocy”ofasentence,ifhewereanyhowtobeatpeace.

           Vagueandobjectlessanxietyinthepresent,andinthefutureacontinualsacrificeleadingtonothingthatwasallthatlaybeforehim.

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