community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

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keep her out of his hands, and how are we to get her home?”

The policeman saw it all in a flash. The stout gentleman was easy to
understand, he turned to consider the girl. The policeman bent over to
examine her more closely, and his face worked with genuine compassion.

“Ah, what a pity!” he said, shaking his head--“why, she is quite a
child! She has been deceived, you can see that at once. Listen, lady,”
he began addressing her, “where do you live?” The girl opened her weary
and sleepy-looking eyes, gazed blankly at the speaker and waved her
hand.

“Here,” said Raskolnikov feeling in his pocket and finding twenty
copecks, “here, call a cab and tell him to drive her to her address. The
only thing is to find out her address!”

“Missy, missy!” the policeman began again, taking the money. “I’ll fetch
you a cab and take you home myself. Where shall I take you, eh? Where do
you live?”

“Go away! They won’t let me alone,” the girl muttered, and once more
waved her hand.

“Ach, ach, how shocking! It’s shameful, missy, it’s a shame!” He shook
his head again, shocked, sympathetic and indignant.

“It’s a difficult job,” the policeman said to Raskolnikov, and as he
did so, he looked him up and down in a rapid glance. He, too, must have
seemed a strange figure to him: dressed in rags and handing him money!

“Did you meet her far from here?” he asked him.

“I tell you she was walking in front of me, staggering, just here, in
the boulevard. She only just reached the seat and sank down on it.”

“Ah, the shameful things that are done in the world nowadays, God have
mercy on us! An innocent creature like that, drunk already! She has been
deceived, that’s a sure thing. See how her dress has been torn too....
Ah, the vice one sees nowadays! And as likely as not she belongs to
gentlefolk too, poor ones maybe.... There are many like that nowadays.
She looks refined, too, as though she were a lady,” and he bent over her
once more.

Perhaps he had daughters growing up like that, “looking like ladies and
refined” with pretensions to gentility and smartness....

“The chief thing is,” Raskolnikov persisted, “to keep her out of this
scoundrel’s hands! Why should he outrage her! It’s as clear as day what
he is after; ah, the brute, he is not moving off!”

Raskolnikov spoke aloud and pointed to him. The gentleman heard him,
and seemed about to fly into a rage again, but thought better of it, and
confined himself to a contemptuous look. He then walked slowly another
ten paces away and again halted.

“Keep her out of his hands we can,” said the constable thoughtfully,
“if only she’d tell us where to take her, but as it is.... Missy, hey,
missy!” he bent over her once more.

She opened her eyes fully all of a sudden, looked at him intently, as
though realising something, got up from the seat and walked away in the
direction from which she had come. “Oh shameful wretches, they won’t let
me alone!” she said, waving her hand again. She walked quickly, though
staggering as before. The dandy followed her, but along another avenue,
keeping his eye on her.

“Don’t be anxious, I won’t let him have her,” the policeman said
resolutely, and he set off after them.

“Ah, the vice one sees nowadays!” he repeated aloud, sighing.

At that moment something seemed to sting Raskolnikov; in an instant a
complete revulsion of feeling came over him.

“Hey, here!” he shouted after the policeman.

The latter turned round.

“Let them be! What is it to do with you? Let her go! Let him amuse
himself.” He pointed at the dandy, “What is it to do with you?”

The policeman was bewildered, and stared at him open-eyed. Raskolnikov
laughed.

“Well!” ejaculated the policeman, with a gesture of contempt, and he
walked after the dandy and the girl, probably taking Raskolnikov for a
madman or something even worse.

“He has carried off my twenty copecks,” Raskolnikov murmured angrily
when he was left alone. “Well, let him take as much from the other
fellow to allow him to have the girl and so let it end. And why did I
want to interfere? Is it for me to help? Have I any right to help? Let
them devour each other alive--what is it to me? How did I dare to give him
twenty copecks? Were they mine?”

In spite of those strange words he felt very wretched. He sat down on
the deserted seat. His thoughts strayed aimlessly.... He found it hard
to fix his mind on anything at that moment. He longed to forget himself
altogether, to forget everything, and then to wake up and begin life
anew....

keep her out of his hands, and how are we to get her home?”

The policeman saw it all in a flash. The stout gentleman was easy to

understand, he turned to consider the girl. The policeman bent over to

examine her more closely, and his face worked with genuine compassion.

“Ah, what a pity!” he said, shaking his head--“why, she is quite a

child! She has been deceived, you can see that at once. Listen, lady,”

he began addressing her, “where do you live?” The girl opened her weary

and sleepy-looking eyes, gazed blankly at the speaker and waved her

hand.

“Here,” said Raskolnikov feeling in his pocket and finding twenty

copecks, “here, call a cab and tell him to drive her to her address. The

only thing is to find out her address!”

“Missy, missy!” the policeman began again, taking the money. “I’ll fetch

you a cab and take you home myself. Where shall I take you, eh? Where do

you live?”

“Go away! They won’t let me alone,” the girl muttered, and once more

waved her hand.

“Ach, ach, how shocking! It’s shameful, missy, it’s a shame!” He shook

his head again, shocked, sympathetic and indignant.

“It’s a difficult job,” the policeman said to Raskolnikov, and as he

did so, he looked him up and down in a rapid glance. He, too, must have

seemed a strange figure to him: dressed in rags and handing him money!

“Did you meet her far from here?” he asked him.

“I tell you she was walking in front of me, staggering, just here, in

the boulevard. She only just reached the seat and sank down on it.”

“Ah, the shameful things that are done in the world nowadays, God have

mercy on us! An innocent creature like that, drunk already! She has been

deceived, that’s a sure thing. See how her dress has been torn too....

Ah, the vice one sees nowadays! And as likely as not she belongs to

gentlefolk too, poor ones maybe.... There are many like that nowadays.

She looks refined, too, as though she were a lady,” and he bent over her

once more.

Perhaps he had daughters growing up like that, “looking like ladies and

refined” with pretensions to gentility and smartness....

“The chief thing is,” Raskolnikov persisted, “to keep her out of this

scoundrel’s hands! Why should he outrage her! It’s as clear as day what

he is after; ah, the brute, he is not moving off!”

Raskolnikov spoke aloud and pointed to him. The gentleman heard him,

and seemed about to fly into a rage again, but thought better of it, and

confined himself to a contemptuous look. He then walked slowly another

ten paces away and again halted.

“Keep her out of his hands we can,” said the constable thoughtfully,

“if only she’d tell us where to take her, but as it is.... Missy, hey,

missy!” he bent over her once more.

She opened her eyes fully all of a sudden, looked at him intently, as

though realising something, got up from the seat and walked away in the

direction from which she had come. “Oh shameful wretches, they won’t let

me alone!” she said, waving her hand again. She walked quickly, though

staggering as before. The dandy followed her, but along another avenue,

keeping his eye on her.

“Don’t be anxious, I won’t let him have her,” the policeman said

resolutely, and he set off after them.

“Ah, the vice one sees nowadays!” he repeated aloud, sighing.

At that moment something seemed to sting Raskolnikov; in an instant a

complete revulsion of feeling came over him.

“Hey, here!” he shouted after the policeman.

The latter turned round.

“Let them be! What is it to do with you? Let her go! Let him amuse

himself.” He pointed at the dandy, “What is it to do with you?”

The policeman was bewildered, and stared at him open-eyed. Raskolnikov

laughed.

“Well!” ejaculated the policeman, with a gesture of contempt, and he

walked after the dandy and the girl, probably taking Raskolnikov for a

madman or something even worse.

“He has carried off my twenty copecks,” Raskolnikov murmured angrily

when he was left alone. “Well, let him take as much from the other

fellow to allow him to have the girl and so let it end. And why did I

want to interfere? Is it for me to help? Have I any right to help? Let

them devour each other alive--what is it to me? How did I dare to give him

twenty copecks? Were they mine?”

In spite of those strange words he felt very wretched. He sat down on

the deserted seat. His thoughts strayed aimlessly.... He found it hard

to fix his mind on anything at that moment. He longed to forget himself

altogether, to forget everything, and then to wake up and begin life

anew....