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- 'J 6 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
I suppose it seemed dark, cold, ha-ha! As though I were seeking
pleasant sensations! ... By the way, why haven't I put out the
candle?" he blew it out. "They've gone to bed next door," he
thought, not seeing the light at the crack. "Well, now, Marfa
Petrovna, now is the time for you to turn up; it's dark, and the
very time and place for you. But now you won't come!"
He suddenly recalled how, an hour before carrying out his
design on Dounia, he had recommended Raskolnikov to trust her
to Razumihin's keeping. "I suppose I really did say it, as Raskol-
nikov guessed, to tease myself. But what a rogue that Raskol-
nikov is!He's gone through a good deal. He may be a successful
rogue in time when he's got over his nonsense. But now he's too
eager for life. These young men are contemptible on that point.
But, hang the fellow! Let him please himself, it's nothing to do
with me."
He could not get to sleep. By degrees Dounia's image rose be-
fore him, and a shudder ran over him. "No, I must give up all
that now," he thought, rousing himself. "I must think of some-
thing else. It's queer and funny. I never had a great hatred for
any one, I never particularly desired to revenge myself even, and
that's a bad sign, a bad sign, a bad sign. I never liked quarrelling
either, and never lost my temper — that's a bad sign too. And the
promises I made her just now, too — Damnation! But — who
knows? — perhaps she would have made a new man of me some-
how. .. ."
He ground his teeth and sank into silence again. Again
Dounia's image rose before him, just as she was when, after
shooting the first time, she had lowered the revolver in terror
and gazed blankly at him, so that he might have seized her twice
over and she would not have lifted a hand to defend herself if he
had not reminded her. He recalled how at that instant he felt
almost sorry for her, how he had felt a pang at his heart . . .
"Ale! Damnation, these thoughts again! I must put it away!'*
He was dozing off; the feverish shiver had ceased, when sud-
denly something seemed to run over his arm and leg under the
bedclothes. He started. "Ugh! hang it! I believe it's a mouse,'*
he thought, "that's the veal I left on the table." He felt fear-
fully disinclined to pull off the blanket, get up, get cold, but
all at once something unpleasant ran over his leg again. He
pulled off the blanket and lighted the candle. Shaking with
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