off to America and make haste. Run,
young man! There may still be time. I'm speaking sincerely. Haven't you
the money? I'll give you the fare."

"I'm not thinking of that at all," Raskolnikov interrupted with disgust.

"I understand (but don't put yourself out, don't discuss it if you don't
want to). I understand the questions you are worrying over--moral ones,
aren't they? Duties of citizen and man? Lay them all aside. They are
nothing to you now, ha-ha! You'll say you are still a man and a citizen.
If so you ought not to have got into this coil. It's no use taking up a
job you are not fit for. Well, you'd better shoot yourself, or don't you
want to?"

"You seem trying to enrage me, to make me leave you."

"What a queer fellow! But here we are. Welcome to the staircase. You
see, that's the way to Sofya Semyonovna. Look, there is no one at home.
Don't you believe me? Ask Kapernaumov. She leaves the key with him. Here
is Madame de Kapernaumov herself. Hey, what? She is rather deaf. Has she
gone out? Where? Did you hear? She is not in and won't be till late in
the evening probably. Well, come to my room; you wanted to come and see
me, didn't you? Here we are. Madame Resslich's not at home. She is a
woman who is always busy, an excellent woman I assure you.... She might
have been of use to you if you had been a little more sensible. Now,
see! I take this five-per-cent bond out of the bureau--see what a lot
I've got of them still--this one will be turned into cash to-day. I
mustn't waste any more time. The bureau is locked, the flat is locked,
and here we are again on the stairs. Shall we take a cab? I'm going to
the Islands. Would you like a lift? I'll take this carriage. Ah, you
refuse? You are tired of it! Come for a drive! I believe it will come on
to rain. Never mind, we'll put down the hood...."

Svidrigailov was already in the carriage. Raskolnikov decided that his
suspicions were at least for that moment unjust. Without answering a
word he turned and walked back towards the Hay Market. If he had only
turned round on his way he might have seen Svidrigailov get out not a
hundred paces off, dismiss the cab and walk along the pavement. But he
had turned the corner and could see nothing. Intense disgust drew him
away from Svidrigailov.

"To think that I could for one instant have looked for help from that
coarse brute, that depraved sensualist and blackguard!" he cried.

Raskolnikov's judgment was uttered too lig