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194 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT we shall talk our way to the truth at last, for we are on the right path, while Pyotr Petrovitch ... is not on the right path. Though I've been calling them all sorts of names just now, I do respect them all . . . though I don't respect Zametov, I like him, for he is a puppy, and that bullock Zossimov, because he if an honest man and knows his work. But enough, it's all said and forgiven. Is it forgiven? Well, then, let's go on. I know thic corridor, I've been here, there was a scandal here at Num- ber 3. . . . Where are you here? Which number? eight? Well, lock yourselves in for the night, then. Don't let anybody in. In a quarter of an hour I'll come back with news, and half an hour later I'll bring Zossimov, you'll see! Good-bye, I'll run." "Good heavens, Dounia, what is going to happen?" sai<^ Pulcheria Alexandrovna, addressing her daughter with anxiety and dismay. "Don't worry yourself mother," said Dounia, taking off her hat and cape. "God has sent this gentleman to our aid, though he has come from a drinking party. We can depend on him, I assure you. And all that he has done for Rodya. ..." "Ah. Dounia, goodness knows whether he will come! How could I bring myself to leave Rodya? . . . And how different, how different I had fancied our meeting! How sullen he was, as though not pleased to see us. . . ." Tears came into her eyes. "No, it's not that, mother. You didn't see, you were crying all the time. He is quite unhinged by serious illness — that's the reason." "Ah, that illness! What will happen, what will happen? And how he talked to you, Dounia!" said the mother, looking timidly at her daughter, trying to read her thoughts and, already half consoled by Dounia's standing up for her brother, which meant that she had already forgiven him. "I am sure he will think better of it to-morrow," she added, probing her further. "And I am sure that he will say the same to-morrow . . . about that," Avdotya Romanovna said finally. And, of course, there was no going beyond that, for this was a point which Pulcheria Alexandrovna was afraid to discuss. Dounia went up and kissed her mother. The latter warmly embraced her without speaking. Then she sat down to wait anxiously for Razumihin's return, timidly watching her daughter who walked up and
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