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"She's drunk herself out of her senses," the same woman's voice

wailed at her side. "Out of her senses. The other day she tried

to hang herself, we cut her down. I ran out to the shop just now,

left my little girl to look after her--and here she's in trouble

again! A neighbour, gentleman, a neighbour, we live close by, the

second house from the end, see yonder...."

The crowd broke up. The police still remained round the woman,

someone mentioned the police station.... Raskolnikov looked on

with a strange sensation of indifference and apathy. He felt

disgusted. "No, that's loathsome... water... it's not good

enough," he muttered to himself. "Nothing will come of it," he

added, "no use to wait. What about the police office...? And why

isn't Zametov at the police office? The police office is open

till ten o'clock...." He turned his back to the railing and

looked about him.