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- 118 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
all, all, brother, I know everything; Nastasya here will tell you.
I made the acquaintance of Nikodim Fomitch and Ilya Petro-
vitch, and the house-porter and Mr. Zametov, Alexandr Grigo-
rievitch, the head clerk in the p>olice office, and, last, but not
least, of Pashenka; Nastasya here knows. ..."
"He's got round her," Nastasya murmured, smiling slyly.
"Why don't you put the sugar in your tea, Nastasya Niki-
forovna?"
"You are a oner!" Nastasya cried suddenly, going off into a
giggle. "I am not Nikiforovna, but Petrovna," she added sud-
denly, recovering from her mirth.
"I'll make a note of it. Well, brother, to make a long story
short, I was going in for a regular explosion here to uproot all
malignant influences in the locality, but Pashenka won the day.
I had not expected, brother, to find her so . . . prepossessing.
Eh, what do you think?"
Raskolnikov did not speak, but he still kept his eyes fixed
upon him, full of alarm.
"And all that could be wished, indeed, in every respect,"
Razumihin went on, not at all embarrassed by his silence.
"Ah, the sly dog!" Nastasya shrieked again. This conversa-
tion afforded her unspeakable delight.
"It's a pity, brother, that you did not set to work in the
right way at first. You ought to have approached her differ-
ently. She is, so to speak, a most unaccountable character. But
we will talk about her character later. . . . How could you let
things come to such a pass that she gave up sending you your
dinner? And that i.o.u.? You must have been mad to sign an
l.o.u. And that promise of marriage when her daughter, Na-
talya Yegorovna, was alive? ... I know all about it! But I see
that's a delicate matter and I am an ass; forgive me. But, talk-
ing of foolishness, do you know Praskovya Pavlovna is not
nearly so foolish as you would think at first sight?
"No," mumbled Raskolnikov, looking away, but feeling that
it was better to keep up the conversation.
"She isn't, is she?" cried Razumihin, delighted to get an
answer out of him. "But she is not very clever either, eh? She
is essentially, essentially an unaccountable character! I am
sometimes quite at a loss, I assure you. . . . She must be forty;
she says she is thirty-six, and of course she has every right to
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