- cid
- bafkreic42z6tk4pd6k5gkeusciy5zxta7tjnqmd67rfjpbd7cv5tobdctq
- content_type
- image/jpeg
- filename
- crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0147.jpg
- key
- pdf-page-1768923078568-fus7j9z87q8
- page_number
- 147
- pdf_type
- born_digital
- size
- 219996
- text
- CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 139
Meanwhile Raskolnikov, who had turned a little towards him
when he answered, began suddenly staring at him again with
marked curiosity, as though he had not had a good look at him
yet, or as though something new had struck him; he rose from
his pillow on purp>ose to stare at him. There certainly was some-
thing peculiar in Pyotr Petrovitch's whole appearance, some-
thing which seemed to justify the title of "fiance" so uncere-
moniously appHed to him. In the first place, it was evident, far
too much so indeed, that Pyotr Petrovitch had made eager use
of his few days in the capital to get himself up and n'g himself
out in expectation of his betrothed — a perfectly innocent
and permissible proceeding, indeed. Even his own, perhaps too
complacent, consciousness of the agreeable improvement in his
appearance might have been forgiven in such circiunstances,
seeing that Pyotr Petrovitch had taken up the role of fiance.
All his clothes were fresh from the tailor's and were all right,
except for being too new and too distinctly appropriate. Even
the stylish new round hat had the same significance. Pyotr
Petrovitch treated it too respectfully and held it too carefully in
his hands. The exquisite pair of lavender gloves, real Louvain,
told the same tale, if only from the fact of his not wearing them,
but carrying them in his hand for show. Light and youthful
colours predominated in Pyotr Petrovitch's attire. He wore a
charming summer jacket of a fawn shade, light thin trousers,
a waistcoat of the same, new and fine linen, a cravat of the
lightest cambric with pink stripes on it, and the best of it was,
this all suited Pyotr Petrovitch. His very fresh and even hand-
some face looked younger than his forty-five years at all times.
His dark, mutton-chop whiskers made an agreeable setting on
both sides, growing thickly about his shining, clean-shaven
chin. Even his hair, touched here and there with grey, though
it had been combed and curled at a hairdresser's, did not give
him a stupid appearance, as ciu'led hair usually does, by inevi-
tably suggesting a German on his wedding-day. If there really
was something unpleasing and repulsive in his rather good-
looking and imposing countenance, it was due to quite other
causes. After scanning Mr. Luzhin unceremoniously, Raskolni-
kov smiled malignantly, sank back on the pillow and stared
at the ceiling as before.
- text_extracted_at
- 2026-01-20T15:31:18.568Z
- text_extracted_by
- pdf-processor
- text_has_content
- true
- text_source
- born_digital
- uploaded
- true