cried the wife, a brisk little
woman. "You are like a little child, Elizabeth Ivanovna, and she's not
your own sister, but a stepsister. She has too much her own way."

"You say nothing to Alena Ivanovna," interrupted the man, "and come
without asking, that's the way to do it, and your sister can manage
herself."

"When shall I come?"

"At seven o'clock, to-morrow."

"Very well, I will come," said Elizabeth, slowly and reluctantly. She
then quitted them.

Raskolnikoff also went away, and stayed to hear no more. His original
amazement had changed gradually into a feeling of actual terror; a
chill ran down his back. He had learned unexpectedly and positively,
that, at seven o'clock the next evening, Elizabeth, the old woman's
sister, the only person living with her, would not be at home, and
that, therefore, the old woman, at seven o'clock to-morrow, _would be
there alone_. It needed but a few steps to reach his room. He went
along like one sentenced to death, with his reason clogged and numbed.
He felt that now all liberty of action and free will were gone, and
everything was irrevocably decided. A more convenient occasion than
was thus unexpectedly offered to him now would never arise, and he
might never learn again, beforehand, that, at a certain time on a
certain day, she, on whom he was to make the attempt, would be
entirely alone.

Raskolnikoff learned subsequently what induced the man and his wife to
invite Elizabeth to call on them. It was a very simple matter. A
foreign family, finding themselves in straitened circumstances, were
desirous of parting with various things, consisting for the most part
in articles of female attire. They were anxious, therefore, to meet
with a dealer in cast-off clothes, and this was one of Elizabeth's
callings. She had a large connection, because she was very honest and
always stuck to her price: there was no higgling to be done with her.
She was a woman of few words and very shy and reserved. But
Raskolnikoff was very superstitious, and traces of this remained in
him long after. In all the events of this period of his life he was
ever ready to detect something mysterious, and attribute every
circumstance to the presence of some particular influence upon his
destiny.

The previous winter, a fellow student, Pokoreff by name, on leaving
for Charkoff, had happened to communicate to him in conversation the
address of Alena Ivanovna, in case he should ever require to pawn
anyt