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- CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 4J
hanging loose. A little kerchief was flung about her bare throat,
but lay slanting on one side. The girl was walking unsteadily,
too, stumbling and staggering from side to side. She drew Ras-
kolnikov's whole attention at last. He overtook the girl at the
seat, but, on reaching it, she dropped down on it, in the corner;
she let her head sink on the back of the seat and closed her eyes,
apparently in extreme exhaustion. Looking at her closely, he
saw at once that she was completely drunk. It was a strange
and shocking sight. He could hardly believe that he was not
mistaken. He saw before him the face of a quite young, fair-
haired girl — sixteen, perhaps not more than fifteen years old, a
pretty little face, but flushed and heavy looking and, as it were,
swollen. The girl seemed hardly to know what she was doing;
she crossed one leg over the other, lifting it indecorously, and
showed every sign of being unconscious that she was in the
street.
Raskolnikov did not sit down, but he felt imwilling to leave
her, and stood facing her in perplexity. This boulevard was
never much frequented; and now, at two o'clock, in the stifling
heat, it was quite deserted. And yet on the further side of the
boulevard, about fifteen paces away, a gentleman was standing
on the edge of the pavement, he, too, would apparently have
liked to approach the girl with some object of his own. He, too,
had probably seen her in the distance and had followed her, but
found Raskolnikov in his way. He looked angrily at him, though
he tried to escape his notice, and stood impatiently biding his
time, till the unwelcome man in rags should have moved away.
His intentions were unmistakable. The gentleman was a plump,
thickly-set man, about thirty, fashionably dressed, with a high
colour, red lips and moustaches. Raskolnikov felt furious; he
had a sudden longing to insult this fat dandy in some way. He
left the girl for a moment and walked towards the gentleman.
"Hey! You SvidrigaTlov! What do you want here?" he
shouted, clenching his fists and laughing, spluttering with rage.
"What do you mean?" the gentleman asked sternly, scowling
in haughty astonishment.
"Get away, that's what I mean."
"How dare you, you low fellow!"
He raised his cane. Raskolnikov rushed at him with his fists,
without reflecting that the stout gentleman was a match for
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