第77章(3/5)
“What is it?”
“Don’t you see? A light in my room, you see? Through the crack …”
They were already at the foot of the last flight of stairs, at the level of the landlady’s door, and they could, as a fact, see from below that there was a light in Raskolnikov’s garret.
“Queer! Nastasya, perhaps,” observed Razumihin.
“She is never in my room at this time and she must be in bed long ago, but … I don’t care! Good-bye!”
“What do you mean? I am coming with you, we’ll come in together!”
“I know we are going in together, but I want to shake hands here and say good-bye to you here. So give me your hand, good-bye!”
“What’s the matter with you, Rodya?”
“Nothing … come along … you shall be witness.”
They began mounting the stairs, and the idea struck Razumihin that perhaps Zossimov might be right after all. “Ah, I’ve upset him with my chatter!” he muttered to himself.
When they reached the door they heard voices in the room.
“What is it?” cried Razumihin. Raskolnikov was the first to open the door; he flung it wide and stood still in the doorway, dumbfoundered.
His mother and sister were sitting on his sofa and had been waiting an hour and a half for him. Why had he never expected, never thought of them, though the news that they had started, were on their way and would arrive immediately, had been repeated to him only that day? They had spent that hour and a half pl-->>