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- 24 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
but she had not opened the window; a stench rose from the
staircase, but the door on to the stairs was not closed. From the
inner rooms clouds of tobacco smoke floated in, she kept cough-
ing, but did not close the door. The youngest child, a girl of six,
was asleep, sitting curled up on the floor with her head on the
sofa. A boy a year older stood crying and shaking in the corner,
probably he had just had a beating. Beside him stood a girl of
nine years old, tall and thin, wearing a thin and ragged chemise
with an ancient cashmere pelisse flung over her bare shoulders,
long outgrown and barely reaching her knees. Her arm, as thin
as a stick, was round her brother's neck. She was trying to com-
fort him, whispering something to him, and doing all she could
to keep him from whimpering again. At the same time her large
dark eyes, which looked larger still from the thinness of her
frightened face, were watching her mother with alarm. Marme-
ladov did not enter the door, but dropped on his knees in the
very doorway, pushing Raskolnikov in front of him. The
woman seeing a stranger stopped indifferently facing him, com-
ing toherself for a moment and apparently wondering what he
had come for. But evidently she decided that he was going into
the next room, as he had to pass through hers to get there. Tak-
ing no further notice of him, she walked towards the outer door
to close it and uttered a sudden scream on seeing her husband
on his knees in the doorway.
"Ah!" she cried out in a frenzy, "he has come back! The
criminal! the monster! . . .And where is the money? What's in
your pocket, show me! And your clothes are all different! Where
are your clothes? Where is the money! speak!"
And she fell t'o searching him. Marmeladov submissively and
obediently held up both arms to facilitate the search. Not a
farthing was there.
"Where is the money?" she cried — "Mercy on us, can he have
drunk it all? There were twelve silver roubles left in the chest!"
and in a fury she seized him by the hair and dragged him into
the room. Marmeladov seconded her efforts by meekly crawling
along on his knees.
"And this is a consolation to me! This does not hurt me, but
is a positive con-so-la-tion, ho-nou-red sir," he called out,
shaken to and fro by his hair and even once striking the ground
with his forehead. The child asleep on the floor woke up, and
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