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Katerina Ivanovna had just begun, as she always did at every free moment, walking to and fro in her little room from window to stove and back again, with her arms folded across her chest, talking to herself and coughing. Of late she had begun to talk more than ever to her eldest girl, Polenka, a child of ten, who, though there was much she did not understand, understood very well that her mother needed her, and so always watched her with her big clever eyes and strove her utmost to appear to understand. This time Polenka was undressing her little brother, who had been unwell all day and was going to bed. The boy was waiting for her to take off his shirt, which had to be washed at night. He was sitting straight and motionless on a chair, with a silent, serious face, with his legs stretched out straight before him heels together and toes turned out. He was listening to what his mother was saying to his sister, sitting perfectly still with pouting lips and wide-open eyes, just as all good little boys have to sit when they are undressed to go to bed. A little girl, still younger, dressed literally in rags, stood at the screen, waiting for her turn. The door on to the stairs was open to relieve them a little from the clouds of tobacco smoke which floated in from the other rooms and brought on long terrible fits of coughing in the poor, consumptive woman. Katerina Ivanovna seemed to have grown even thinner during that week and the hectic flush on her face was brighter than ever. You wouldnt believe, you cant imagine, Polenka, she said, walking about the room, what a happy luxurious life we had in my papas house and how this drunkard has brought me, and will bring you all, to ruin! Papa was a civil colonel and only a step from being a governor; so that everyone who came to see him said, We look upon you, Ivan Mihailovitch, as our governor! When I when she coughed violently, oh, cursed life, she cried, clearing her throat and pressing her hands to her breast, when I when at the last ball at the marshals Princess Bezzemelny saw mewho gave me the blessing when your father and I were married, Polenkashe asked at once Isnt that the pretty girl who danced the shawl dance at the breaking-up? (You must mend that tear, you must take your needle and darn it as I showed you, or to-morrowcough, cough, coughhe will make the hole bigger, she articulated with effort.) Prince Schegolskoy, a kammerjunker, had just come from Petersburg then he danced the mazurka with me and wanted to make me an offer next day; but I thanked him in flattering expressions and told him that my heart had long been anothers. That other was your father, Polya; papa was fearfully angry. Is the water ready? Give me the shirt, and the stockings! Lida, said she to the youngest one, you must manage without your chemise to-night and lay your stockings out with it Ill wash them together. How is it that drunken vagabond doesnt come in? He has worn his shirt till it looks like a dish-clout, he has torn it to rags! Id do it all together, so as not to have to work two nights running! Oh, dear! (Cough, cough, cough, cough!) Again! Whats this? she cried, noticing a crowd in the passage and the men, who were pushing into her room, carrying a burden. What is it? What are they bringing? Mercy on us! Where are we to put him? asked the policeman, looking round when Marmeladov, unconscious and covered with blood, had been carried in. On the sofa! Put him straight on the sofa, with his head this way, Raskolnikov showed him. Run over in the road! Drunk! someone shouted in the passage. Katerina Ivanovna stood, turning white and gasping for breath. The children were terrified. Little Lida screamed, rushed to Polenka and clutched at her, trembling all over. Having laid Marmeladov down, Raskolnikov flew to Katerina Ivanovna. For Gods sake be calm, dont be frightened! he said, speaking quickly, he was crossing the road and was run over by a carriage, dont be frightened, he will come to, I told them bring him here Ive been here already, you remember? He will come to; Ill pay! Hes done it this time! Katerina Ivanovna cried despairingly and she rushed to her husband. |
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