If I had done that thing, I should certainly have said that I had seen the workmen and the flat, Raskolnikov answered, with reluctance and obvious disgust.
But why speak against yourself?
Because only peasants, or the most inexperienced novices deny everything flatly at examinations. If a man is ever so little developed and experienced, he will certainly try to admit all the external facts that cant be avoided, but will seek other explanations of them, will introduce some special, unexpected turn, that will give them another significance and put them in another light. Porfiry might well reckon that I should be sure to answer so, and say I had seen them to give an air of truth, and then make some explanation.
But he would have told you at once that the workmen could not have been there two days before, and that therefore you must have been there on the day of the murder at eight oclock. And so he would have caught you over a detail.
Yes, that is what he was reckoning on, that I should not have time to reflect, and should be in a hurry to make the most likely answer, and so would forget that the workmen could not have been there two days before.
But how could you forget it?
Nothing easier. It is in just such stupid things clever people are most easily caught. The more cunning a man is, the less he suspects that he will be caught in a simple thing. The more cunning a man is, the simpler the trap he must be caught in. Porfiry is not such a fool as you think.
He is a knave then, if that is so!
Raskolnikov could not help laughing. But at the very moment, he was struck by the strangeness of his own frankness, and the eagerness with which he had made this explanation, though he had kept up all the preceding conversation with gloomy repulsion, obviously with a motive, from necessity.
I am getting a relish for certain aspects! he thought to himself. But almost at the same instant he became suddenly uneasy, as though an unexpected and alarming idea had occurred to him. His uneasiness kept on increasing. They had just reached the entrance to Bakaleyevs.
Go in alone! said Raskolnikov suddenly. I will be back directly.
Where are you going? Why, we are just here.
I cant help it. I will come in half an hour. Tell them.
Say what you like, I will come with you.
You, too, want to torture me! he screamed, with such bitter irritation, such despair in his eyes that Razumihins hands dropped. He stood for some time on the steps, looking gloomily at Raskolnikov striding rapidly away in the direction of his lodging. At last, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist, he swore he would squeeze Porfiry like a lemon that very day, and went up the stairs to reassure Pulcheria Alexandrovna, who was by now alarmed at their long absence.
When Raskolnikov got home, his hair was soaked with sweat and he was breathing heavily. He went rapidly up the stairs, walked into his unlocked room and at once fastened the latch. Then in senseless terror he rushed to the corner, to that hole under the paper where he had put the things; put his hand in, and for some minutes felt carefully in the hole, in every crack and fold of the paper. Finding nothing, he got up and drew a deep breath. As he was reaching the steps of Bakaleyevs, he suddenly fancied that something, a chain, a stud or even a bit of paper in which they had been wrapped with the old womans
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