Pagina 423 de 1294

Kozel's house was thirty yards away. Raskolnikov walked behind,

carefully holding Marmeladov's head and showing the way.

"This way, this way! We must take him upstairs head foremost.

Turn round! I'll pay, I'll make it worth your while," he

muttered.

Katerina Ivanovna had just begun, as she always did at every free

moment, walking to and fro in her little room from window to

stove and back again, with her arms folded across her chest,

talking to herself and coughing. Of late she had begun to talk

more than ever to her eldest girl, Polenka, a child of ten, who,

though there was much she did not understand, understood very

well that her mother needed her, and so always watched her with

her big clever eyes and strove her utmost to appear to

understand. This time Polenka was undressing her little brother,

who had been unwell all day and was going to bed. The boy was

waiting for her to take off his shirt, which had to be washed at

night. He was sitting straight and motionless on a chair, with a

silent, serious face, with his legs stretched out straight before

him--heels together and toes turned out.