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- 484 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
it out) and how we prayed that they should be taken — they
weren't! I was breaking my heart, Rodya, six or seven days ago
over your food and your clothes and the way you are living.
But now I see again how foolish I was, for you can attain any
position you like by your intellect and talent. No doubt you
don't care about that for the present and you are occupied with
much more important matters. . . ."
"Dounia's not at home, mother?"
"No, Rodya. I often don't see her; she leaves me alone.
Dmitri Prokofitch comes to see me, it's so good of him, and he
always talks about you. He loves and respects you, my dear.
I don't say that Dounia is very wanting in consideration. I
am not complaining. She has her ways and I have mine; she
seems to have got some secrets of late and I never have any
secrets from you two. Of course, I am sure that Dounia has
far too much sense, and besides she loves you and me . . . but
I don't know what it will all lead to. You've made me so happy
by coming now, Rodya, but she has missed you by going out;
when she comes in I'll tell her: your brother came in while you
were out. Where have you been all this time? You mustn't
spoil me, Rodya, you know; come when you can, but if you
can't, it doesn't matter, I can wait. I shall know, anyway, that
you are fond of me, that will be enough for me. I shall read what
you write, I shall hear about you from every one, and sometimes
you'll come yourself to see me. What could be better? Here
you've come now to comfort your mother, I see that."
Here Pulcheria Alexandrovna began to cry.
"Here I am again! Don't mind my foolishness. My goodness,
why am I sitting here?" she cried, jumping up. "There is coffee
and I don't offer you any. Ah, that's the selfishness of old age.
I'll get it at once!"
"Mother, don't trouble, I am going at once. I haven't come
for that. Please listen to me."
Pulcheria Alexandrovna went up to him timidly.
"Mother, whatever happens, whatever you hear about me,
w^hatever you are told about me, will you always love me as you
do now?" he asked suddenly from the fulness of his heart, as
though not thinking of his words and not weighing them.
"Rodya, Rodya, what is the matter? How can you ask me
such a question? Why, who will tell me anything about you?
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