ff turned aside with a rapid movement and sat down on a
chair, close to the table. In the twinkling of an eye he took stock of
everything in the room.

This room was large, with a very low ceiling, and was the only one let
out by the Kapernasumoffs; in the wall, on the left-hand side, was a
door giving access to theirs. On the opposite side, in the wall on the
right, there was another door, which was always locked. That was
another lodging, having another number. Sonia's room was more like an
out-house, of irregular rectangular shape, which gave it an uncommon
character. The wall, with its three windows facing the canal, cut it
obliquely, forming thus an extremely acute angle, in the back portion
of which nothing could be seen, considering the feeble light of the
candle. On the other hand, the other angle was an extremely obtuse
one. This large room contained scarcely any furniture. In the
right-hand corner was the bed; between the bed and the door, a chair;
on the same side, facing the door of the next set, stood a deal table,
covered with a blue cloth; close to the table were two rush chairs.
Against the opposite wall, near the acute angle, was placed a small
chest of drawers of unvarnished wood, which seemed out of place in
this vacant spot. This was the whole of the furniture. The yellowish
and worn paper had everywhere assumed a darkish color, probably the
effect of the damp and coal smoke. Everything in the place denoted
poverty. Even the bed had no curtains. Sonia silently considered the
visitor, who examined her room so attentively and so unceremoniously.

* * * * *

"Her lot is fixed," thought he,--"a watery grave, the mad-house, or a
brutish existence!" This latter contingency was especially repellent
to him, but skeptic as he was, he could not help believing it a
possibility. "Is it possible that such is really the case?" he asked
himself. "Is it possible that this creature, who still retains a pure
mind, should end by becoming deliberately mire-like? Has she not
already become familiar with it, and if up to the present she has been
able to bear with such a life, has it not been so because vice has
already lost its hideousness in her eyes? Impossible again!" cried he,
on his part, in the same way as Sonia had cried a moment ago. "No,
that which up to the present has prevented her from throwing herself
into the canal has been the fear of sin and its punishment. May she
not be