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"... So I tell you this, most respectable Luise Ivanovna, and I

tell it you for the last time," the assistant went on. "If there

is a scandal in your honourable house once again, I will put you

yourself in the lock-up, as it is called in polite society. Do

you hear? So a literary man, an author took five roubles for his

coat-tail in an 'honourable house'? A nice set, these authors!"

And he cast a contemptuous glance at Raskolnikov. "There was a

scandal the other day in a restaurant, too. An author had eaten

his dinner and would not pay; 'I'll write a satire on you,' says

he. And there was another of them on a steamer last week used the

most disgraceful language to the respectable family of a civil

councillor, his wife and daughter. And there was one of them

turned out of a confectioner's shop the other day. They are like

that, authors, literary men, students, town-criers.... Pfoo! You

get along! I shall look in upon you myself one day. Then you had

better be careful! Do you hear?"