the　Explosive　Lieutenant。。。。〃
  〃And　what　a　regiment　it　was；　too；〃　cried　Ilya　Petrovitch；　much
  gratified　at　this　agreeable　banter；　though　still　sulky。
  Raskolnikov　had　a　sudden　desire　to　say　something　exceptionally
  pleasant　to　them　all。　〃Excuse　me；　Captain；〃　he　began　easily；
  suddenly　addressing　Nikodim　Fomitch；　〃will　you　enter　into　my
  position。。。。　I　am　ready　to　ask　pardon；　if　I　have　been　ill…mannered。
  I　am　a　poor　student；　sick　and　shattered　（shattered　was　the　word　he
  used）　by　poverty。　I　am　not　studying；　because　I　cannot　keep　myself　now；
  but　I　shall　get　money。。。。　I　have　a　mother　and　sister　in　the　province
  of　X。　They　will　send　it　to　me；　and　I　will　pay。　My　landlady　is　a
  good…hearted　woman；　but　she　is　so　exasperated　at　my　having　lost　my
  lessons；　and　not　paying　her　for　the　last　four　months；　that　she　does
  not　even　send　up　my　dinner。。。　and　I　don't　understand　this　I。O。U。　at
  all。　She　is　asking　me　to　pay　her　on　this　I。O。U。　How　am　I　to　pay　her？
  Judge　for　yourselves！。。。〃
  〃But　that　is　not　our　business；　you　know；〃　the　head　clerk　was
  observing。
  〃Yes；　yes。　I　perfectly　agree　with　you。　But　allow　me　to　explain。。。〃
  Raskolnikov　put　in　again；　still　addressing　Nikodim　Fomitch；　but　trying
  his　best　to　address　Ilya　Petrovitch　also；　though　the　latter
  persistently　appeared　to　be　rummaging　among　his　papers　and　to　be
  contemptuously　oblivious　of　him。　〃Allow　me　to　explain　that　I　have　been
  living　with　her　for　nearly　three　years　and　at　first。。。　at　first。。。　for
  why　should　I　not　confess　it；　at　the　very　beginning　I　promised　to　marry
  her　daughter；　it　was　a　verbal　promise；　freely　given。。。　she　was　a
  girl。。。　indeed；　I　liked　her；　though　I　was　not　in　love　with　her。。。　a
  youthful　affair　in　fact。。。　that　is；　I　mean　to　say；　that　my　landlady
  gave　me　credit　freely　in　those　days；　and　I　led　a　life　of。。。　I　was　very
  heedless。。。〃
  〃Nobody　asks　you　for　these　personal　details；　sir；　we've　no　time　to
  waste；〃　Ilya　Petrovitch　interposed　roughly　and　with　a　note　of　triumph；
  but　Raskolnikov　stopped　him　hotly；　though　he　suddenly　found　it
  exceedingly　difficult　to　speak。
  〃But　excuse　me；　excuse　me。　It　is　for　me　to　explain。。。　how　it　all
  happened。。。　In　my　turn。。。　though　I　agree　with　you。。。　it　is
  unnecessary。　But　a　year　ago；　the　girl　died　of　typhus。　I　remained
  lodging　there　as　before；　and　when　my　landlady　moved　into　her　present
  quarters；　she　said　to　me。。。　and　in　a　friendly　way。。。　that　she　had
  complete　trust　in　me；　but　still；　would　I　not　give　her　an　I。O。U。　for
  one　hundred　and　fifteen　roubles；　all　the　debt　I　owed　her。　She　said
  if　only　I　gave　her　that；　she　would　trust　me　again；　as　much　as　I　liked；
  and　that　she　would　never；　never…　those　were　her　own　words…　make　use　of
  that　I。O。U。　till　I　could　pay　of　myself。。。　and　now；　when　I　have　lost　my
  lessons　and　have　nothing　to　eat；　she　takes　action　against　me。　What
  am　I　to　say　to　that？〃
  〃All　these　affecting　details　are　no　business　of　ours。〃　Ilya
  Petrovitch　interrupted　rudely。　〃You　must　give　a　written　undertaking
  but　as　for　your　love　affairs　and　all　these　tragic　events；　we　have
  nothing　to　do　with　that。〃
  〃Come　now。。。　you　are　harsh；〃　muttered　Nikodim　Fomitch；　sitting
  down　at　the　table　and　also　beginning　to　write。　He　looked　a　little
  ashamed。
  〃Write！〃　said　the　head　clerk　to　Raskolnikov。
  〃Write　what？〃　the　latter　asked；　gruffly。
  〃I　will　dictate　to　you。〃
  Raskolnikov　fancied　that　the　head　clerk　treated　him　more　casually
  and　contemptuously　after　his　speech；　but　strange　to　say　he　suddenly
  felt　completely　indifferent　to　any　one's　opinion；　and　this　revulsion
  took　place　in　a　flash；　in　one　instant。　If　he　had　cared　to　think　a
  little；　he　would　have　been　amazed　indeed　that　he　could　have　talked
  to　them　like　that　a　minute　before；　forcing　his　feelings　upon　them。　And
  where　had　those　feelings　come　from？　Now　if　the　whole　room　had　been
  filled；　not　with　police　officers；　but　with　those　nearest　and　dearest
  to　him；　he　would　not　have　found　one　human　word　for　them；　so　empty
  was　his　heart。　A　gloomy　sensation　of　agonising；　everlasting　solitude
  and　remoteness；　took　conscious　form　in　his　soul。　It　was　not　the
  meanness　of　his　sentimental　effusions　before　Ilya　Petrovitch；　nor
  the　meanness　of　the　latter's　triumph　over　him　that　had　caused　this
  sudden　revulsion　in　his　heart。　Oh；　what　had　he　to　do　now　with　his
  own　baseness；　with　all　these　petty　vanities；　officers；　German　women；
  debts；　police　offices？　If　he　had　been　sentenced　to　be　burnt　at　that
  moment；　he　would　not　have　stirred；　would　hardly　have　heard　the
  sentence　to　the　end。　Something　was　happening　to　him　entirely　new；
  sudden　and　unknown。　It　was　not　that　he　understood；　but　he　felt　clearly
  with　all　the　intensity　of　sensation　that　he　could　never　more　appeal　to
  these　people　in　the　police　office　with　sentimental　effusion　like　his
  recent　outburst；　or　with　anything　whatever；　and　that　if　they　had
  been　his　own　brothers　and　sisters　and　not　police　officers；　it　would
  have　been　utterly　out　of　the　question　to　appeal　to　them　in　any
  circumstance　of　life。　He　had　never　experienced　such　a　strange　and
  awful　sensation。　And　what　was　most　agonising…　it　was　more　a
  sensation　than　a　conception　or　idea；　a　direct　sensation；　the　most
  agonising　of　all　the　sensations　he　had　known　in　his　life。
  The　head　clerk　began　dictating　to　him　the　usual　form　of　declaration；
  that　he　could　not　pay；　that　he　undertook　to　do　so　at　a　future　date；
  that　he　would　not　leave　the　town；　nor　sell　his　property；　and　so　on。
  〃But　you　can't　write；　you　can　hardly　hold　the　pen；〃　observed　the
  head　clerk；　looking　with　curiosity　at　Raskolnikov。　〃Are　you　ill？〃
  〃Yes；　I　am　giddy。　Go　on！〃
  〃That's　all。　Sign　it。〃
  The　head　clerk　took　the　paper；　and　turned　to　attend　to　others。
  Raskolnikov　gave　back　the　pen；　but　instead　of　getting　up　and　going
  away；　he　put　his　elbows　on　the　table　and　pressed　his　head　in　his
  hands。　He　felt　as　if　a　nail　were　being　driven　into　his　skull。　A
  strange　idea　suddenly　occurred　to　him；　to　get　up　at　once；　to　go　up
  to　Nikodim　Fomitch；　and　tell　him　everything　that　had　happened
  yesterday；　and　then　to　go　with　him　to　his　lodgings　and　to　show　him　the
  things　in　the　hole　in　the　corner。　The　impulse　was　so　strong　that　he
  got　up　from　his　seat　to　carry　it　out。　〃Hadn't　I　better　think　a
  minute？〃　flashed　through　his　mind。　〃No；　better　cast　off　the　burden
  without　thinking。〃　But　all　at　once　he　stood　still；　rooted　to　the　spot。
  Nikodim　Fomitch　was　talking　eagerly　with　Ilya　Petrovitch；　and　the
  words　reached　him：
  〃It's　impossible；　they'll　both　be　released。　To　begin　with；　the　whole
  story　contradicts　itself。　Why　should　they　have　called　the　porter；　if
  it　had　been　their　doing？　To　inform　against　themselves？　Or　as　a
  blind？　No；　that　would　be　too　cunning！　Besides；　Pestryakov；　the
  student；　was　seen　at　the　gate　by　both　the　porters　and　a　woman　as　he
  went　in。　He　was　walking　with　three　friends；　who　left　him　only　at　the
  gate；　and　he　asked　the　porters　to　direct　him；　in　the　presence　of　the
  friends。　Now；　would　he　have　asked　his　way　if　he　had　been　going　with
  such　an　object？　As　for　Koch；　he　spent　half　an　hour　at　the
  silversmith's　below；　before　he　went　up　to　the　old　woman　and　he　left
  him　at　exactly　a　quarter　to　eight。　Now　just　consider。。。〃
  〃But　excuse　me；　how　do　you　explain　this　contradiction？　They　state
  themselves　that　they　knocked　and　the　door　was　locked；　yet　three
  minutes　later　when　they　went　up　with　the　porter；　it　turned　out　the
  door　was　unfastened。〃
  〃That's　just　it；　the　murderer　mu