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- ♦04 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
ened children. The frying-pan of which Lebeziatnikov had
spoken was not there, at least Raskolnikov did not see it. But
instead of rapping on the pan, Katerina Ivanovna began clap-
ping her wasted hands, when she made Lida and Kolya dance
and Poienka sing. She too joined in the singing, but broke down
at the second note with a fearful cough, which made her curse in
despair and even shed tears. What made her most furious was
the weeping and terror of Kolya and Lida. Some effort had been
made to dress the children up as street singers are dressed. The
boy had on a turban made of something red and white to look
like a Turk. There had been no costume for Lida; she simply
had a red knitted cap, or rather a night cap that had belonged
to Marmeladov, decorated with a broken piece of white ostrich
feather, which had been Katerina Ivanovna's grandmother's and
had been preserved as a family possession. Poienka was in her
everyday dress; she looked in timid perplexity at her mother,
and kept at her side, hiding her tears. She dimly realised her
mother's condition, and looked uneasily about her. She was ter-
ribly frightened of the street and the crowd. Sonia followed
Katerina Ivanovna, weeping and beseeching her to return home,
but Katerina Ivanovna was not to be persuaded.
"Leave off, Sonia, leave off," she shouted, speaking fast,
panting and coughing. "You don't know what you ask; you
are like a child! I've told you before that I am not coming back
to that drunken German. Let every one, let all Petersburg see
the children begging in the streets, though their father was an
honourable man who served all his life in truth and fidelity, and
one may say died in the service." (Katerina Ivanovna had by
now invented this fantastic story and thoroughly believed it.)
"Let that wretch of a general see it! And you are silly, Sonia:
what have we to eat? Tell me that. We have worried you enough^
I won't go on so! Ah, Rodion Romanovitch, is that you?" she
cried, seeing Raskolnikov and rushing up to him. "Explain to
this silly girl, please, that nothing better could be done! Even
organ-grinders earn their living, and every one will see at once
that we are different, that we are an honourable and bereaved
family reduced to beggary. And that general will lose his post,
you'll see! We shall perform vmder his windows every day, and
if the Tsar drives by, I'll fall on my knees, put the children be-
fore me, show them to him, and »ay 'Defend us, father.' He is
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