Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky (e books for reading .TXT) 📖

I’ll stand here at the window and not be in your way⁠ ⁠… I think you are right⁠ ⁠…”

Pyotr Petrovitch returned to the sofa, sat down opposite Sonia, looked attentively at her and assumed an extremely dignified, even severe expression, as much as to say, “don’t you make any mistake, madam.” Sonia was overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“In the first place, Sofya Semyonovna, will you make my excuses to your respected mamma.⁠ ⁠… That’s right, isn’t it? Katerina Ivanovna stands in the place of a mother to you?” Pyotr Petrovitch began with great dignity, though affably.

It was evident that his intentions were friendly.

“Quite so, yes; the place of a mother,” Sonia answered, timidly and hurriedly.

“Then will you make my apologies to her? Through inevitable circumstances I am forced to be absent and shall not be at the dinner in spite of your mamma’s kind invitation.”

“Yes⁠ ⁠… I’ll tell her⁠ ⁠… at once.”

And Sonia hastily jumped up from her seat.

“Wait, that’s not all,” Pyotr Petrovitch detained her, smiling at her simplicity and ignorance of good manners, “and you know me little, my dear Sofya Semyonovna, if you suppose I would have ventured to trouble a person like you for a matter of so little consequence affecting myself only. I have another object.”

Sonia sat down hurriedly. Her eyes rested again for an instant on the grey-and-rainbow-coloured notes that remained on the table, but she quickly looked away and fixed her eyes on Pyotr Petrovitch. She felt it horribly indecorous, especially for her, to look at another person’s money. She stared at the gold eyeglass which Pyotr Petrovitch held in his left hand and at the massive and extremely handsome ring with a yellow stone on his middle finger. But suddenly she looked away and, not knowing where to turn, ended by staring Pyotr Petrovitch again straight in the face. After a pause of still greater dignity he continued.

“I chanced yesterday in passing to exchange a couple of words with Katerina Ivanovna, poor woman. That was sufficient to enable me to ascertain that she is in a position⁠—preternatural, if one may so express it.”

“Yes⁠ ⁠… preternatural⁠ ⁠…” Sonia hurriedly assented.

“Or it would be simpler and more comprehensible to say, ill.”

“Yes, simpler and more comprehen⁠ ⁠… yes, ill.”

“Quite so. So then from a feeling of humanity and so to speak compassion, I should be glad to be of service to her in any way, foreseeing her unfortunate position. I believe the whole of this poverty-stricken family depends now entirely on you?”

“Allow me to ask,” Sonia rose to her feet, “did you say something to her yesterday of the possibility of a pension? Because she told me you had undertaken to get her one. Was that true?”

“Not in the slightest, and indeed it’s an absurdity! I merely hinted at her obtaining temporary assistance as the widow of an official who had died in the service⁠—if only she has patronage⁠ ⁠… but apparently your late parent had not served his full term and had not indeed been in the service at all of late. In fact, if there could be any hope, it would be very ephemeral, because there would be no claim for assistance in that case, far from it.⁠ ⁠… And she is dreaming of a pension already, he-he-he!⁠ ⁠… A go-ahead lady!”

“Yes, she is. For she is credulous and good-hearted, and she believes everything from the goodness of her heart and⁠ ⁠… and⁠ ⁠… and she is like that⁠ ⁠… yes⁠ ⁠… You must excuse her,” said Sonia, and again she got up to go.

“But you haven’t heard what I have to say.”

“No, I haven’t heard,” muttered Sonia.

“Then sit down.” She was terribly confused; she sat down again a third time.

“Seeing her position with her unfortunate little ones, I should be glad, as I have said before, so far as lies in my power, to be of service, that is, so far as is in my power, not more. One might for instance get up a subscription for her, or a lottery, something of the sort, such as is always arranged in such cases by friends or even outsiders desirous of assisting people. It was of that I intended to speak to you; it might be done.”

“Yes, yes⁠ ⁠… God will repay you for it,” faltered Sonia, gazing intently at Pyotr Petrovitch.

“It might be, but we will talk of it later. We might begin it today, we will talk it over this evening and lay the foundation so to speak. Come to me at seven o’clock. Mr. Lebeziatnikov, I hope, will assist us. But there is one circumstance of which I ought to warn you beforehand and for which I venture to trouble you, Sofya Semyonovna, to come here. In my opinion money cannot be, indeed it’s unsafe to put it into Katerina Ivanovna’s own hands. The dinner today is a proof of that. Though she has not, so to speak, a crust of bread for tomorrow and⁠ ⁠… well, boots or shoes, or anything; she has bought today Jamaica rum, and even, I believe, Madeira and⁠ ⁠… and coffee. I saw it as I passed through. Tomorrow it will all fall upon you again, they won’t have a crust of bread. It’s absurd, really, and so, to my thinking, a subscription ought to be raised so that the unhappy widow should not know of the money, but only you, for instance. Am I right?”

“I don’t know⁠ ⁠… this is only today, once in her life.⁠ ⁠… She was so anxious to do honour, to celebrate the memory.⁠ ⁠… And she is very sensible⁠ ⁠… but just as you think and I shall be very, very⁠ ⁠… they will all be⁠ ⁠… and God will reward⁠ ⁠… and the orphans⁠ ⁠…”

Sonia burst into tears.

“Very well, then, keep it in mind; and now will you accept for the benefit of your relation the small sum that I am able to spare, from me personally. I am very anxious that my name should not be mentioned in connection with it. Here⁠ ⁠… having so to speak anxieties of my own, I cannot do more⁠ ⁠…”

And Pyotr Petrovitch held out to Sonia a ten-rouble note carefully unfolded.