get it back from a friend。。。〃 he broke off in confusion。
〃Well； we will talk about it then； sir。〃
〃Good…bye… are you always at home alone； your sister is not here
with you？〃 He asked her as casually as possible as he went out into
the passage。
〃What business is she of yours； my good sir？〃
〃Oh； nothing particular； I simply asked。 You are too quick。。。。
Good…day； Alyona Ivanovna。〃
Raskolnikov went out in complete confusion。 This confusion became
more and more intense。 As he went down the stairs； he even stopped
short； two or three times； as though suddenly struck by some
thought。 When he was in the street he cried out； 〃Oh； God； how
loathsome it all is！ and can I； can I possibly。。。。 No； it's
nonsense； it's rubbish！〃 he added resolutely。 〃And how could such an
atrocious thing come into my head？ What filthy things my heart is
capable of。 Yes； filthy above all； disgusting； loathsome；
loathsome！… and for a whole month I've been。。。。〃 But no words； no
exclamations； could express his agitation。 The feeling of intense
repulsion； which had begun to oppress and torture his heart while he
was on his way to the old woman； had by now reached such a pitch and
had taken such a definite form that he did not know what to do with
himself to escape from his wretchedness。 He walked along the
pavement like a drunken man； regardless of the passers…by； and
jostling against them； and only came to his senses when he was in
the next street。 Looking round； he noticed that he was standing
close to a tavern which was entered by steps leading from the pavement
to the basement。 At that instant two drunken men came out at the door；
and abusing and supporting one another； they mounted the steps。
Without stopping to think； Raskolnikov went down the steps at once。
Till that moment he had never been into a tavern； but now he felt
giddy and was tormented by a burning thirst。 He longed for a drink
of cold beer； and attributed his sudden weakness to the want of
food。 He sat down at a sticky little table in a dark and dirty corner；
ordered some beer； and eagerly drank off the first glassful。 At once
he felt easier； and his thoughts became clear。
〃All that's nonsense；〃 he said hopefully； 〃and there is nothing in
it all to worry about！ It's simply physical derangement。 Just a
glass of beer； a piece of dry bread… and in one moment the brain is
stronger； the mind is clearer and the will is firm！ Phew； how
utterly petty it all is！〃
But in spite of this scornful reflection； he was by now looking
cheerful as though he were suddenly set free from a terrible burden：
and he gazed round in a friendly way at the people in the room。 But
even at that moment he had a dim foreboding that this happier frame of
mind was also not normal。
There were few people at the time in the tavern。 Besides the two
drunken men he had met on the steps； a group consisting of about
five men and a girl with a concertina had gone out at the same time。
Their departure left the room quiet and rather empty。 The persons
still in the tavern were a man who appeared to be an artisan； drunk；
but not extremely so； sitting before a pot of beer； and his companion；
a huge； stout man with a grey beard； in a short full…skirted coat。
He was very drunk： and had dropped asleep on the bench； every now
and then； he began as though in his sleep； cracking his fingers；
with his arms wide apart and the upper part of his body bounding about
on the bench； while he hummed some meaningless refrain； trying to
recall some such lines as these：
…
〃His wife a year he fondly loved
His wife a… a year he… fondly loved。〃
…
Or suddenly waking up again：
…
〃Walking along the crowded row
He met the one he used to know。〃
…
But no one shared his enjoyment： his silent companion looked with
positive hostility and mistrust at all these manifestations。 There was
another man in the room who looked somewhat like a retired
government clerk。 He was sitting apart； now and then sipping from
his pot and looking round at the company。 He； too； appeared to be in
some agitation。
Chapter Two
RASKOLNIKOV was not used to crowds； and； as we said before； he
avoided society of every sort； more especially of late。 But now all at
once he felt a desire to be with other people。 Something new seemed to
be taking place within him； and with it he felt a sort of thirst for
company。 He was so weary after a whole month of concentrated
wretchedness and gloomy excitement that he longed to rest； if only for
a moment； in some other world； whatever it might be； and； in spite
of the filthiness of the surroundings； he was glad now to stay in
the tavern。
The master of the establishment was in another room； but he
frequently came down some steps into the main room； his jaunty； tarred
boots with red turn…over tops coming into view each time before the
rest of his person。 He wore a full coat and a horribly greasy black
satin waistcoat； with no cravat； and his whole face seemed smeared
with oil like an iron lock。 At the counter stood a boy of about
fourteen； and there was another boy somewhat younger who handed
whatever was wanted。 On the counter lay some sliced cucumber； some
pieces of dried black bread； and some fish； chopped up small； all
smelling very bad。 It was insufferably close； and so heavy with the
fumes of spirits that five minutes in such an atmosphere might well
make a man drunk。
There are chance meetings with strangers that interest us from the
first moment； before a word is spoken。 Such was the impression made on
Raskolnikov by the person sitting a little distance from him； who
looked like a retired clerk。 The young man often recalled this
impression afterwards； and even ascribed it to presentiment。 He looked
repeatedly at the clerk； partly no doubt because the latter was
staring persistently at him； obviously anxious to enter into
conversation。 At the other persons in the room； including the
tavern…keeper； the clerk looked as though he were used to their
company； and weary of it； showing a shade of condescending contempt
for them as persons of station and culture inferior to his own； with
whom it would be useless for him to converse。 He was a man over fifty；
bald and grizzled； of medium height； and stoutly built。 His face；
bloated from continual drinking； was of a yellow； even greenish；
tinge； with swollen eyelids out of which keen reddish eyes gleamed
like little chinks。 But there was something very strange in him； there
was a light in his eyes as though of intense feeling… perhaps there
were even thought and intelligence； but at the same time there was a
gleam of something like madness。 He was wearing an old and
hopelessly ragged black dress coat； with all its buttons missing
except one； and that one he had buttoned； evidently clinging to this
last trace of respectability。 A crumpled shirt front covered with
spots and stains； protruded from his canvas waistcoat。 Like a clerk；
he wore no beard； nor moustache