Zossimov was a tall, fat man with a puffy, colourless, clean-shaven face and straight flaxen hair. He wore spectacles, and a big gold ring on his fat finger. He was twenty-seven. He had on a light grey fashionable loose coat, light summer trousers, and everything about him loose, fashionable and spick and span; his linen was irreproachable, his watch-chain was massive. In manner he was slow and, as it were, nonchalant, and at the same time studiously free and easy; he made efforts to conceal his self- importance, but it was apparent at every instant. All his acquaintances found him tedious, but said he was clever at his work.
Ive been to you twice to-day, brother. You see, hes come to himself, cried Razumihin.
I see, I see; and how do we feel now, eh? said Zossimov to Raskolnikov, watching him carefully and, sitting down at the foot of the sofa, he settled himself as comfortably as he could.
He is still depressed, Razumihin went on. Weve just changed his linen and he almost cried.
Thats very natural; you might have put it off if he did not wish it. His pulse is first-rate. Is your head still aching, eh?
I am well, I am perfectly well! Raskolnikov declared positively and irritably. He raised himself on the sofa and looked at them with glittering eyes, but sank back on to the pillow at once and turned to the wall. Zossimov watched him intently.
Very good. Going on all right, he said lazily. Has he eaten anything?
They told him, and asked what he might have.
He may have anything soup, tea mushrooms and cucumbers, of course, you must not give him; hed better not have meat either, and but no need to tell you that! Razumihin and he looked at each other. No more medicine or anything. Ill look at him again to-morrow. Perhaps, to-day even but never mind
To-morrow evening I shall take him for a walk, said Razumihin. We are going to the Yusupov garden and then to the Palais de Crystal.
I would not disturb him to-morrow at all, but I dont know a little, maybe but well see.
Ach, what a nuisance! Ive got a house-warming party to-night; its only a step from here. Couldnt he come? He could lie on the sofa. You are coming? Razumihin said to Zossimov. Dont forget, you promised.
All right, only rather later. What are you going to do?
Oh, nothingtea, vodka, herrings. There will be a pie just our friends.
All neighbours here, almost all new friends, except my old uncle, and he is new toohe only arrived in Petersburg yesterday to see to some business of his. We meet once in five years.
What is he?
Hes been stagnating all his life as a district postmaster; gets a little pension. He is sixty-fivenot worth talking about. But I am fond of him. Porfiry Petrovitch, the head of the Investigation Department here But you know him.
Is he a relation of yours, too?
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