community-datasets/crime_and_punish · Datasets at Hugging Face

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“Well, after what you have said, I am fully convinced that you have
come to Petersburg with designs on my sister,” he said directly to
Svidrigaïlov, in order to irritate him further.

“Oh, nonsense,” said Svidrigaïlov, seeming to rouse himself. “Why, I
told you... besides your sister can’t endure me.”

“Yes, I am certain that she can’t, but that’s not the point.”

“Are you so sure that she can’t?” Svidrigaïlov screwed up his eyes and
smiled mockingly. “You are right, she doesn’t love me, but you can
never be sure of what has passed between husband and wife or lover and
mistress. There’s always a little corner which remains a secret to
the world and is only known to those two. Will you answer for it that
Avdotya Romanovna regarded me with aversion?”

“From some words you’ve dropped, I notice that you still have
designs--and of course evil ones--on Dounia and mean to carry them out
promptly.”

“What, have I dropped words like that?” Svidrigaïlov asked in naïve
dismay, taking not the slightest notice of the epithet bestowed on his
designs.

“Why, you are dropping them even now. Why are you so frightened? What
are you so afraid of now?”

“Me--afraid? Afraid of you? You have rather to be afraid of me, _cher
ami_. But what nonsense.... I’ve drunk too much though, I see that. I
was almost saying too much again. Damn the wine! Hi! there, water!”

He snatched up the champagne bottle and flung it without ceremony out of
the window. Philip brought the water.

“That’s all nonsense!” said Svidrigaïlov, wetting a towel and putting it
to his head. “But I can answer you in one word and annihilate all your
suspicions. Do you know that I am going to get married?”

“You told me so before.”

“Did I? I’ve forgotten. But I couldn’t have told you so for certain for
I had not even seen my betrothed; I only meant to. But now I really
have a betrothed and it’s a settled thing, and if it weren’t that I have
business that can’t be put off, I would have taken you to see them
at once, for I should like to ask your advice. Ach, hang it, only ten
minutes left! See, look at the watch. But I must tell you, for it’s an
interesting story, my marriage, in its own way. Where are you off to?
Going again?”

“No, I’m not going away now.”

“Not at all? We shall see. I’ll take you there, I’ll show you my
betrothed, only not now. For you’ll soon have to be off. You have to go
to the right and I to the left. Do you know that Madame Resslich, the
woman I am lodging with now, eh? I know what you’re thinking, that she’s
the woman whose girl they say drowned herself in the winter. Come, are
you listening? She arranged it all for me. You’re bored, she said,
you want something to fill up your time. For, you know, I am a gloomy,
depressed person. Do you think I’m light-hearted? No, I’m gloomy. I do
no harm, but sit in a corner without speaking a word for three days at a
time. And that Resslich is a sly hussy, I tell you. I know what she has
got in her mind; she thinks I shall get sick of it, abandon my wife and
depart, and she’ll get hold of her and make a profit out of her--in our
class, of course, or higher. She told me the father was a broken-down
retired official, who has been sitting in a chair for the last three
years with his legs paralysed. The mamma, she said, was a sensible
woman. There is a son serving in the provinces, but he doesn’t help;
there is a daughter, who is married, but she doesn’t visit them. And
they’ve two little nephews on their hands, as though their own children
were not enough, and they’ve taken from school their youngest daughter,
a girl who’ll be sixteen in another month, so that then she can be
married. She was for me. We went there. How funny it was! I present
myself--a landowner, a widower, of a well-known name, with connections,
with a fortune. What if I am fifty and she is not sixteen? Who thinks
of that? But it’s fascinating, isn’t it? It is fascinating, ha-ha! You
should have seen how I talked to the papa and mamma. It was worth paying
to have seen me at that moment. She comes in, curtseys, you can fancy,
still in a short frock--an unopened bud! Flushing like a sunset--she had
been told, no doubt. I don’t know how you feel about female faces, but
to my mind these sixteen years, these childish eyes, shyness and tears
of bashfulness are better than beauty; and she is a perfect little
picture, too. Fair hair in little curls, like a lamb’s, full little rosy
lips, tiny feet, a charmer!... Well, we made friends. I told them I was
in a hurry owing to domestic circumstances, and the next day, that is
the day before yesterday, we were betrothed. When I go now I take her on
my knee at once and keep her there.... Well, she flushes like a sunset
and I kiss her every minute. Her mamma of course impresses on her that
this is her husband and that this must be so. It’s simply delicious! The
present betrothed condition is perhaps better than marriage. Here you
have what is called _la nature et la vérité_, ha-ha! I’ve talked to her
twice, she is far from a fool. Sometimes she steals a look at me that
positively scorches me. Her face is like Raphael’s Madonna. You know,
the Sistine Madonna’s face has something fantastic in it, the face
of mournful religious ecstasy. Haven’t you noticed it? Well, she’s
something in that line. The day after we’d been betrothed, I bought her
presents to the value of fifteen hundred roubles--a set of diamonds and
another of pearls and a silver dressing-case as large as this, with all
sorts of things in it, so that even my Madonna’s face glowed. I sat her
on my knee, yesterday, and I suppose rather too unceremoniously--she

“Well, after what you have said, I am fully convinced that you have

come to Petersburg with designs on my sister,” he said directly to

Svidrigaïlov, in order to irritate him further.

“Oh, nonsense,” said Svidrigaïlov, seeming to rouse himself. “Why, I

told you... besides your sister can’t endure me.”

“Yes, I am certain that she can’t, but that’s not the point.”

“Are you so sure that she can’t?” Svidrigaïlov screwed up his eyes and

smiled mockingly. “You are right, she doesn’t love me, but you can

never be sure of what has passed between husband and wife or lover and

mistress. There’s always a little corner which remains a secret to

the world and is only known to those two. Will you answer for it that

Avdotya Romanovna regarded me with aversion?”

“From some words you’ve dropped, I notice that you still have

designs--and of course evil ones--on Dounia and mean to carry them out

promptly.”

“What, have I dropped words like that?” Svidrigaïlov asked in naïve

dismay, taking not the slightest notice of the epithet bestowed on his

designs.

“Why, you are dropping them even now. Why are you so frightened? What

are you so afraid of now?”

“Me--afraid? Afraid of you? You have rather to be afraid of me, _cher

ami_. But what nonsense.... I’ve drunk too much though, I see that. I

was almost saying too much again. Damn the wine! Hi! there, water!”

He snatched up the champagne bottle and flung it without ceremony out of

the window. Philip brought the water.

“That’s all nonsense!” said Svidrigaïlov, wetting a towel and putting it

to his head. “But I can answer you in one word and annihilate all your

suspicions. Do you know that I am going to get married?”

“You told me so before.”

“Did I? I’ve forgotten. But I couldn’t have told you so for certain for

I had not even seen my betrothed; I only meant to. But now I really

have a betrothed and it’s a settled thing, and if it weren’t that I have

business that can’t be put off, I would have taken you to see them

at once, for I should like to ask your advice. Ach, hang it, only ten

minutes left! See, look at the watch. But I must tell you, for it’s an

interesting story, my marriage, in its own way. Where are you off to?

Going again?”

“No, I’m not going away now.”

“Not at all? We shall see. I’ll take you there, I’ll show you my

betrothed, only not now. For you’ll soon have to be off. You have to go

to the right and I to the left. Do you know that Madame Resslich, the

woman I am lodging with now, eh? I know what you’re thinking, that she’s

the woman whose girl they say drowned herself in the winter. Come, are

you listening? She arranged it all for me. You’re bored, she said,

you want something to fill up your time. For, you know, I am a gloomy,

depressed person. Do you think I’m light-hearted? No, I’m gloomy. I do

no harm, but sit in a corner without speaking a word for three days at a

time. And that Resslich is a sly hussy, I tell you. I know what she has

got in her mind; she thinks I shall get sick of it, abandon my wife and

depart, and she’ll get hold of her and make a profit out of her--in our

class, of course, or higher. She told me the father was a broken-down

retired official, who has been sitting in a chair for the last three

years with his legs paralysed. The mamma, she said, was a sensible

woman. There is a son serving in the provinces, but he doesn’t help;

there is a daughter, who is married, but she doesn’t visit them. And

they’ve two little nephews on their hands, as though their own children

were not enough, and they’ve taken from school their youngest daughter,

a girl who’ll be sixteen in another month, so that then she can be

married. She was for me. We went there. How funny it was! I present

myself--a landowner, a widower, of a well-known name, with connections,

with a fortune. What if I am fifty and she is not sixteen? Who thinks

of that? But it’s fascinating, isn’t it? It is fascinating, ha-ha! You

should have seen how I talked to the papa and mamma. It was worth paying

to have seen me at that moment. She comes in, curtseys, you can fancy,

still in a short frock--an unopened bud! Flushing like a sunset--she had

been told, no doubt. I don’t know how you feel about female faces, but

to my mind these sixteen years, these childish eyes, shyness and tears

of bashfulness are better than beauty; and she is a perfect little

picture, too. Fair hair in little curls, like a lamb’s, full little rosy

lips, tiny feet, a charmer!... Well, we made friends. I told them I was

in a hurry owing to domestic circumstances, and the next day, that is

the day before yesterday, we were betrothed. When I go now I take her on

my knee at once and keep her there.... Well, she flushes like a sunset

and I kiss her every minute. Her mamma of course impresses on her that

this is her husband and that this must be so. It’s simply delicious! The

present betrothed condition is perhaps better than marriage. Here you

have what is called _la nature et la vérité_, ha-ha! I’ve talked to her

twice, she is far from a fool. Sometimes she steals a look at me that

positively scorches me. Her face is like Raphael’s Madonna. You know,

the Sistine Madonna’s face has something fantastic in it, the face

of mournful religious ecstasy. Haven’t you noticed it? Well, she’s

something in that line. The day after we’d been betrothed, I bought her

presents to the value of fifteen hundred roubles--a set of diamonds and

another of pearls and a silver dressing-case as large as this, with all

sorts of things in it, so that even my Madonna’s face glowed. I sat her

on my knee, yesterday, and I suppose rather too unceremoniously--she