the Explosive Lieutenant。。。。〃
〃And what a regiment it was； too；〃 cried Ilya Petrovitch； much
gratified at this agreeable banter； though still sulky。
Raskolnikov had a sudden desire to say something exceptionally
pleasant to them all。 〃Excuse me； Captain；〃 he began easily；
suddenly addressing Nikodim Fomitch； 〃will you enter into my
position。。。。 I am ready to ask pardon； if I have been ill…mannered。
I am a poor student； sick and shattered （shattered was the word he
used） by poverty。 I am not studying； because I cannot keep myself now；
but I shall get money。。。。 I have a mother and sister in the province
of X。 They will send it to me； and I will pay。 My landlady is a
good…hearted woman； but she is so exasperated at my having lost my
lessons； and not paying her for the last four months； that she does
not even send up my dinner。。。 and I don't understand this I。O。U。 at
all。 She is asking me to pay her on this I。O。U。 How am I to pay her？
Judge for yourselves！。。。〃
〃But that is not our business； you know；〃 the head clerk was
observing。
〃Yes； yes。 I perfectly agree with you。 But allow me to explain。。。〃
Raskolnikov put in again； still addressing Nikodim Fomitch； but trying
his best to address Ilya Petrovitch also； though the latter
persistently appeared to be rummaging among his papers and to be
contemptuously oblivious of him。 〃Allow me to explain that I have been
living with her for nearly three years and at first。。。 at first。。。 for
why should I not confess it； at the very beginning I promised to marry
her daughter； it was a verbal promise； freely given。。。 she was a
girl。。。 indeed； I liked her； though I was not in love with her。。。 a
youthful affair in fact。。。 that is； I mean to say； that my landlady
gave me credit freely in those days； and I led a life of。。。 I was very
heedless。。。〃
〃Nobody asks you for these personal details； sir； we've no time to
waste；〃 Ilya Petrovitch interposed roughly and with a note of triumph；
but Raskolnikov stopped him hotly； though he suddenly found it
exceedingly difficult to speak。
〃But excuse me； excuse me。 It is for me to explain。。。 how it all
happened。。。 In my turn。。。 though I agree with you。。。 it is
unnecessary。 But a year ago； the girl died of typhus。 I remained
lodging there as before； and when my landlady moved into her present
quarters； she said to me。。。 and in a friendly way。。。 that she had
complete trust in me； but still； would I not give her an I。O。U。 for
one hundred and fifteen roubles； all the debt I owed her。 She said
if only I gave her that； she would trust me again； as much as I liked；
and that she would never； never… those were her own words… make use of
that I。O。U。 till I could pay of myself。。。 and now； when I have lost my
lessons and have nothing to eat； she takes action against me。 What
am I to say to that？〃
〃All these affecting details are no business of ours。〃 Ilya
Petrovitch interrupted rudely。 〃You must give a written undertaking
but as for your love affairs and all these tragic events； we have
nothing to do with that。〃
〃Come now。。。 you are harsh；〃 muttered Nikodim Fomitch； sitting
down at the table and also beginning to write。 He looked a little
ashamed。
〃Write！〃 said the head clerk to Raskolnikov。
〃Write what？〃 the latter asked； gruffly。
〃I will dictate to you。〃
Raskolnikov fancied that the head clerk treated him more casually
and contemptuously after his speech； but strange to say he suddenly
felt completely indifferent to any one's opinion； and this revulsion
took place in a flash； in one instant。 If he had cared to think a
little； he would have been amazed indeed that he could have talked
to them like that a minute before； forcing his feelings upon them。 And
where had those feelings come from？ Now if the whole room had been
filled； not with police officers； but with those nearest and dearest
to him； he would not have found one human word for them； so empty
was his heart。 A gloomy sensation of agonising； everlasting solitude
and remoteness； took conscious form in his soul。 It was not the
meanness of his sentimental effusions before Ilya Petrovitch； nor
the meanness of the latter's triumph over him that had caused this
sudden revulsion in his heart。 Oh； what had he to do now with his
own baseness； with all these petty vanities； officers； German women；
debts； police offices？ If he had been sentenced to be burnt at that
moment； he would not have stirred； would hardly have heard the
sentence to the end。 Something was happening to him entirely new；
sudden and unknown。 It was not that he understood； but he felt clearly
with all the intensity of sensation that he could never more appeal to
these people in the police office with sentimental effusion like his
recent outburst； or with anything whatever； and that if they had
been his own brothers and sisters and not police officers； it would
have been utterly out of the question to appeal to them in any
circumstance of life。 He had never experienced such a strange and
awful sensation。 And what was most agonising… it was more a
sensation than a conception or idea； a direct sensation； the most
agonising of all the sensations he had known in his life。
The head clerk began dictating to him the usual form of declaration；
that he could not pay； that he undertook to do so at a future date；
that he would not leave the town； nor sell his property； and so on。
〃But you can't write； you can hardly hold the pen；〃 observed the
head clerk； looking with curiosity at Raskolnikov。 〃Are you ill？〃
〃Yes； I am giddy。 Go on！〃
〃That's all。 Sign it。〃
The head clerk took the paper； and turned to attend to others。
Raskolnikov gave back the pen； but instead of getting up and going
away； he put his elbows on the table and pressed his head in his
hands。 He felt as if a nail were being driven into his skull。 A
strange idea suddenly occurred to him； to get up at once； to go up
to Nikodim Fomitch； and tell him everything that had happened
yesterday； and then to go with him to his lodgings and to show him the
things in the hole in the corner。 The impulse was so strong that he
got up from his seat to carry it out。 〃Hadn't I better think a
minute？〃 flashed through his mind。 〃No； better cast off the burden
without thinking。〃 But all at once he stood still； rooted to the spot。
Nikodim Fomitch was talking eagerly with Ilya Petrovitch； and the
words reached him：
〃It's impossible； they'll both be released。 To begin with； the whole
story contradicts itself。 Why should they have called the porter； if
it had been their doing？ To inform against themselves？ Or as a
blind？ No； that would be too cunning！ Besides； Pestryakov； the
student； was seen at the gate by both the porters and a woman as he
went in。 He was walking with three friends； who left him only at the
gate； and he asked the porters to direct him； in the presence of the
friends。 Now； would he have asked his way if he had been going with
such an object？ As for Koch； he spent half an hour at the
silversmith's below； before he went up to the old woman and he left
him at exactly a quarter to eight。 Now just consider。。。〃
〃But excuse me； how do you explain this contradiction？ They state
themselves that they knocked and the door was locked； yet three
minutes later when they went up with the porter； it turned out the
door was unfastened。〃
〃That's just it； the murderer mu