to have it with them; they had waited to have it with him. Avdotya
Romanovna rang the bell: it was answered by a ragged dirty waiter, and
they asked him to bring tea which was served at last, but in such
a dirty and disorderly way that the ladies were ashamed. Razumihin
vigorously attacked the lodgings, but, remembering Luzhin, stopped
in embarrassment and was greatly relieved by Pulcheria Alexandrovna's
questions, which showered in a continual stream upon him.

He talked for three quarters of an hour, being constantly interrupted
by their questions, and succeeded in describing to them all the
most important facts he knew of the last year of Raskolnikov's life,
concluding with a circumstantial account of his illness. He omitted,
however, many things, which were better omitted, including the scene at
the police station with all its consequences. They listened eagerly
to his story, and, when he thought he had finished and satisfied his
listeners, he found that they considered he had hardly begun.

"Tell me, tell me! What do you think...? Excuse me, I still don't know
your name!" Pulcheria Alexandrovna put in hastily.

"Dmitri Prokofitch."

"I should like very, very much to know, Dmitri Prokofitch... how he
looks... on things in general now, that is, how can I explain, what are
his likes and dislikes? Is he always so irritable? Tell me, if you can,
what are his hopes and, so to say, his dreams? Under what influences is
he now? In a word, I should like..."

"Ah, mother, how can he answer all that at once?" observed Dounia.

"Good heavens, I had not expected to find him in the least like this,
Dmitri Prokofitch!"

"Naturally," answered Razumihin. "I have no mother, but my uncle comes
every year and almost every time he can scarcely recognise me, even in
appearance, though he is a clever man; and your three years' separation
means a great deal. What am I to tell you? I have known Rodion for
a year and a half; he is morose, gloomy, proud and haughty, and of
late--and perhaps for a long time before--he has been suspicious and
fanciful. He has a noble nature and a kind heart. He does not like
showing his feelings and would rather do a cruel thing than open his
heart freely. Sometimes, though, he is not at all morbid, but simply
cold and inhumanly callous; it's as though he were alternating between
two characters. Sometimes he is fearfully reserved! He says he is
so busy that everything is a hindrance, and yet he lies in b