第69章

第69章toreachthepoliceofficehehadtogostraightforwardandtakethesecondturningtotheleft.itwasonlyafewpacesaway.butatthefirstturninghestoppedand,afteraminute’sthought,turnedintoasidestreetandwenttwostreetsoutofhisway,possiblywithoutanyobject,orpossiblytodelayaminuteandgaintime.hewalked,lookingattheground;suddenlysomeoneseemedtowhisperinhisear;heliftedhisheadandsawthathewasstandingattheverygateofthehouse.hehadnotpassedit,hehadnotbeennearitsincethatevening.anoverwhelming,ountablepromptingdrewhimon.hewentintothehouse,passedthroughthegateway,thenintothefirstentranceontheright,andbeganmountingthefamiliarstaircasetothefourthstorey.thenarrow,steepstaircasewasverydark.hestoppedateachlandingandlookedroundhimwithcuriosity;onthefirstlandingtheframeworkofthewindowhadbeentakenout.“thatwasn’tsothen,”hethought.herewastheflatonthesecondstoreywherenikolayanddmitrihadbeenworking.“it’sshutupandthedoornewlypainted.soit’stolet.”thenthethirdstoreyandthefourth.“here!”hewasperplexedtofindthedooroftheflatwideopen.therewerementhere,hecouldhearvoices;hehadnotexpectedthat.afterbriefhesitationhemountedthelaststairsandwentintotheflat.it,too,wasbeingdoneup;therewereworkmeninit.thisseemedtoamazehim;hesomehowfanciedthathewouldfindeverythingasheleftit,evenperhapsthecorpsesinthesameplacesonthefloor.andnow,barewalls,nofurniture;itseemedstrange.hewalkedtothewindowandsatdownonthewindow-sill.thereweretwoworkmen,bothyoungfellows,butonemuchyoungerthantheother.theywerepaperingthewallswithanewwhitepapercoveredwithlilacflowers,insteadoftheold,dirty,yellowone.raskolnikovforsomereasonfelthorriblyannoyedbythis.helookedatthenewpaperwithdislike,asthoughhefeltsorrytohaveitallsochanged.theworkmenhadobviouslystayedbeyondtheirtimeandnowtheywerehurriedlyrollinguptheirpaperandgettingreadytogohome.theytooknonoticeofraskolnikov’scomingin;theyweretalking.raskolnikovfoldedhisarmsandlistened.

“shecomestomeinthemorning,”saidtheeldertotheyounger,“veryearly,alldressedup.‘whyareyoupreeningandprinking?’saysi.‘iamreadytodoanythingtopleaseyou,titvassilitch!’that’sawayofgoingon!andshedresseduplikearegularfashionbook!”

“andwhatisafashionbook?”theyoungeroneasked.heobviouslyregardedtheotherasanauthority.

“afashionbookisalotofpictures,coloured,andtheycometothetailorshereeverysaturday,bypostfromabroad,toshowfolkshowtodress,themalesexaswellasthefemale.they’repictures.thegentlemenaregenerallywearingfurcoatsandfortheladies’fluffles,they’rebeyondanythingyoucanfancy.”

“there’snothingyoucan’tfindinpetersburg,”theyoungercriedenthusiastically,“exceptfatherandmother,there’severything!”

“exceptthem,there’severythingtobefound,myboy,”theelderdeclaredsententiously.

raskolnikovgotupandwalkedintotheotherroomwherethestrongbox,thebed,andthechestofdrawershadbeen;theroomseemedtohimverytinywithoutfurnitureinit.thepaperwasthesame;thepaperinthecornershowedwherethecaseofikonshadstood.helookedatitandwenttothewindow.theelderworkmanlookedathimaskance.

“whatdoyouwant?”heaskedsuddenly.

insteadofansweringraskolnikovwentintothepassageandpulledthebell.thesamebell,thesamecrackednote.herangitasecondandathirdtime;helistenedandremembered.thehideousandagonisinglyfearfulsensationhehadfeltthenbegantocomebackmoreandmorevividly.heshudderedateveryringanditgavehimmoreandmoresatisfaction.

“well,whatdoyouwant?whoareyou?”theworkmanshouted,goingouttohim.raskolnikovwentinsideagain.

“iwanttotakeaflat,”hesaid.“iamlookinground.”