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- 40 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
son? 'You are our one comfort, you are everything to us.* Oh,
mother!"
His bitterness grew more and more intense, and if he had
happened to meet Mr. Luzhin at the moment, he might have
murdered him.
"Hm . . . yes, that's true," he continued, pursuing the whirl-
ing ideas that chased each other in his brain, "it is true that
•it needs time and care to get to know a man,' but there is no
mistake about Mr. Luzhin. The chief thing is he is 'a man of
business and seems kind,' that was something, wasn't it, to send
the bags and big box for them! A kind man, no doubt after that!
But his bride and her mother are to drive in a peasant's cart
covered with sacking (I know, I have been driven in it). No
matter! It is only ninety versts and then they can 'travel very
comfortably, third class,' for a thousand versts! Quite right,
too. One must cut one's coat according to one's cloth, but what
about you, Mr. Luzhin? She is your bride. . . . And you must be
aware that her mother has to raise money on her pension for the
journey. To be sure it's a matter of business, a partnership for
mutual benefit, with equal shares and expenses; — food and
drink provided, but pay for your tobacco. The business man
has got the better of them, too. The luggage will cost less than
their fares and very likely go for nothing. How is it that they
don't both see all that, or is it that they don't want to see? ^nd
they are pleased, pleased! And to think that this is only the first
blossoming, and that the real fruits are to come! But what really
matters is not the stinginess, is not the meanness, but the tone
of the whole thing. For that will be the tone after marriage,
it's a foretaste of it. And mother too, why should she be so
lavish? What will she have by the time she gets to Petersburg?
Three silver roubles or two 'paper ones' as she says. . . . that old
woman . . . hm. What does she expect to live upon in Petersburg
afterwards? She has her reasons already for guessing that she
could not live with Dounia after the marriage, even for the
first few months. The good man has no doubt let slip something
on that subject also, though mother would deny it: 'I shall
refuse,' says she. On whom is she reckoning then? Is she count-
ing on what is left of her hundred and twenty roubles of pension
when Afanasy Ivanovitch's debt is paid? She knits woollen
shawls and embroiders cufFs, ruining her old eyes. And all her
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