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- CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 429
who assaults an officer with a weapon. So 'he took his suffering.*
"So I suspect now that Nikolay wants to take his suffering or
something of the sort. I know it for certain from facts, indeed.
Only he doesn't know that I know. What, you don't admit that
there are such fantastic people among the peasants? Lots of
them. The elder now has begun influencing him, especially since
he tried to hang himself. But he'll come and tell me all himself.
You think he'll hold out? Wait a bit, he'll take his words back.
I am waiting from hour to hour for him to come and abjure
his evidence. I have come to like that Nikolay and am studying
him in detail. And what do you think? He-he! He answered me
very plausibly on some points, he obviously had collected some
evidence and prepared himself cleverly. But on other points he
is simply at sea, knows nothing and doesn't even suspect that
he doesn't know!
"No, Rodion Romanovitch, Nikolay doesn't come in! This is
a fantastic, gloomy business, a modern case, an incident of to-
day when the heart of man is troubled, when the phrase is quoted
that blood 'renews,' when comfort is preached as the aim of life.
Here we have bookish dreams, a heart unhinged by theories.
Here we see resolution in the first stage, but resolution of a spe-
cial kind: he resolved to do it like jumping over a precipice or
from a bell tower and his legs shook as he went to the crime.
He forgot to shut the door after him, and murdered two people
for a theory. He committed the murder and couldn't take the
money, and what he did manage to snatch up he hid under a
stone. It wasn't enough for him to suffer agony behind the
door while they battered at the door and rung the bell, no, he
had to go to the empty lodging, half delirious, to recall the bell-
ringing, he wanted to feel the cold shiver over again. . . . Well,
that we grant, was through illness, but consider this: he is a
murderer, but looks upon himself as an honest man, despises
others, poses as injured innocence. No, that's not the work of
a Nikolay, my dear Rodion Romanovitch!"All that had been said before had sounded so like a recantation
that these words were too great a shock. Raskolnikov shuddered
as though he had been stabbed.
"Then . . . who then ... is the murderer?" he asked in a
breathless voice, unable to restrain himself.
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