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- 198 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
and when he had let him go, he stared at him and went ofif
into a sudden guffaw. Razumihin stood facing him in gloomy
and earnest reflection.
"Of course, I am an ass," he observed, sombre as a storm
cloud, "but still . . . you are another."
"No, brother, not at all such another. I am not dreaming
of any folly."
They walked along in silence and only when they were close
to Raskolnikov's lodgings, Razumihin broke the silence in
considerable anxiety.
"Listen," he said, "you're a first-rate fellow, but among
your other failings, you're a loose fish, that, I know, and a
dirty one, too. You are a feeble, nervous wretch, and a mass of
whims, you're getting fat and lazy and can't deny yourself
anything — and I call that dirty because it leads on straight
into the dirt. You've let yourself get so slack that I don't
know how it is you are still a good, even a devoted doctor.
You — a doctor — sleep on a feather bed and get up at night
to your patients! In another three or four years you won't
get up for your patients. . . . But hang it all, that's not the
point! . . . You are going to spend to-night in the landlady's
flat here. (Hard work I've had to persuade her!) And I'll be
in the kitchen. So here's a chance for you to get to know her
better. . . . It's not as you think! There's not a trace of anything
of the sort, brother. ... !"
"But I don't think!"
"Here you have modesty, brother, silence, bashfulness, a
savage virtue . . . and yet she's sighing and melting like wax,
simply melting! Save me from her, by all that's unholy! She's
most prepossessing. . . . I'll repay you, I'll do anything. ..."
Zossimov laughed more violently than ever.
"Well, you are smitten! But what am I to do wjth her?"
"It won't be much trouble, I assure you. Talk any rot you like
CO her, as long as you sit by her and talk. You're a doctor, too;
try curing her of something. I swear you won't regret it. She
has a piano, and you know, I strum a little. I have a song there,
a genuine Russian one: *I shed hot tears.' She likes the genuine
article — and well, it all began with that song; Now you're a
regular performer, a maitre, a Rubinstein. ... I assure you,
you ^ron't regret it!"
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