It was so painful that he made distinct efforts to get rid of it. There was another thought which had been continually hovering of late about Raskolnikov’s mind, and causing him great uneasiness. It is true he was befriending Katerina Ivanovna’s children, but who could tell with what motive and what it meant? The man always had some design, some project. The man, moreover, was very unpleasant, evidently depraved, undoubtedly cunning and deceitful, possibly malignant. No, would it not be better to try Svidrigailov? And he could not help inwardly owning that he had long felt that he must see him for some reason.īut what could they have in common? Their very evil-doing could not be of the same kind. At that moment especially he did not feel equal to seeing her. Sonia stood before him as an irrevocable sentence. Sonia? But what should he go to Sonia for now? To beg her tears again? He was afraid of Sonia, too. Moreover, he was conscious of immense moral fatigue, though his mind was working better that morning than it had done of late.Īnd was it worth while, after all that had happened, to contend with these new trivial difficulties? Was it worth while, for instance, to manoeuvre that Svidrigailov should not go to Porfiry’s? Was it worth while to investigate, to ascertain the facts, to waste time over anyone like Svidrigailov?Īnd yet he was hastening to Svidrigailov could he be expecting something new from him, information, or means of escape? Men will catch at straws! Was it destiny or some instinct bringing them together? Perhaps it was only fatigue, despair perhaps it was not Svidrigailov but some other whom he needed, and Svidrigailov had simply presented himself by chance. Another, much more important anxiety tormented him-it concerned himself, but in a different, more vital way. Strange to say, none would have believed it perhaps, but he only felt a faint vague anxiety about his immediate future. It all worried him and at the same time he could not attend to it. Why? He could not have explained, but if he could, he would not have wasted much thought over it at the moment. He pondered again and again, went over Porfiry’s visit no, he hadn’t been, of course he hadn’t.īut if he had not been yet, would he go? Meanwhile, for the present he fancied he couldn’t. On the way, one question particularly worried him: had Svidrigailov been to Porfiry’s?Īs far as he could judge, he would swear to it, that he had not. Having once recognised this, he could not rest, and now the time had come. But that man had some hidden power over him. What he had to hope from that man he did not know. You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today! The embedded audio player requires a modern internet browser.
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