spots　and　stains；　protruded　from　his　canvas　waistcoat。　Like　a　clerk；
  he　wore　no　beard；　nor　moustache；　but　had　been　so　long　unshaven　that
  his　chin　looked　like　a　stiff　greyish　brush。　And　there　was　something
  respectable　and　like　an　official　about　his　manner　too。　But　he　was
  restless；　he　ruffled　up　his　hair　and　from　time　to　time　let　his　head
  drop　into　his　hands　dejectedly　resting　his　ragged　elbows　on　the
  stained　and　sticky　table。　At　last　he　looked　straight　at　Raskolnikov；
  and　said　loudly　and　resolutely：
  〃May　I　venture；　honoured　sir；　to　engage　you　in　polite
  conversation？　Forasmuch　as；　though　your　exterior　would　not　command
  respect；　my　experience　admonishes　me　that　you　are　a　man　of　education
  and　not　accustomed　to　drinking。　I　have　always　respected　education　when
  in　conjunction　with　genuine　sentiments；　and　I　am　besides　a　titular
  counsellor　in　rank。　Marmeladov…　such　is　my　name；　titular　counsellor。　I
  make　bold　to　inquire…　have　you　been　in　the　service？〃
  〃No；　I　am　studying；〃　answered　the　young　man；　somewhat　surprised　at
  the　grandiloquent　style　of　the　speaker　and　also　at　being　so　directly
  addressed。　In　spite　of　the　momentary　desire　he　had　just　been　feeling
  for　company　of　any　sort；　on　being　actually　spoken　to　he　felt
  immediately　his　habitual　irritable　and　uneasy　aversion　for　any
  stranger　who　approached　or　attempted　to　approach　him。
  〃A　student　then；　or　formerly　a　student；〃　cried　the　clerk。　〃Just　what
  I　thought！　I'm　a　man　of　experience；　immense　experience；　sir；〃　and　he
  tapped　his　forehead　with　his　fingers　in　self…approval。　〃You've　been
  a　student　or　have　attended　some　learned　institution！。。。　But　allow
  me。。。。〃　He　got　up；　staggered；　took　up　his　jug　and　glass；　and　sat
  down　beside　the　young　man；　facing　him　a　little　sideways。　He　was　drunk；
  but　spoke　fluently　and　boldly；　only　occasionally　losing　the　thread
  of　his　sentences　and　drawling　his　words。　He　pounced　upon　Raskolnikov
  as　greedily　as　though　he　too　had　not　spoken　to　a　soul　for　a　month。
  〃Honoured　sir；〃　he　began　almost　with　solemnity；　〃poverty　is　not　a
  vice；　that's　a　true　saying。　Yet　I　know　too　that　drunkenness　is　not　a
  virtue；　and　that　that's　even　truer。　But　beggary；　honoured　sir；　beggary
  is　a　vice。　In　poverty　you　may　still　retain　your　innate　nobility　of
  soul；　but　in　beggary…　never…　no　one。　For　beggary　a　man　is　not　chased
  out　of　human　society　with　a　stick；　he　is　swept　out　with　a　broom；　so　as
  to　make　it　as　humiliating　as　possible；　and　quite　right；　too；　forasmuch
  as　in　beggary　I　am　ready　to　be　the　first　to　humiliate　myself。　Hence
  the　pot…house！　Honoured　sir；　a　month　ago　Mr。　Lebeziatnikov　gave　my
  wife　a　beating；　and　my　wife　is　a　very　different　matter　from　me！　Do　you
  understand？　Allow　me　to　ask　you　another　question　out　of　simple
  curiosity：　have　you　ever　spent　a　night　on　a　hay　barge；　on　the　Neva？〃
  〃No；　I　have　not　happened　to；〃　answered　Raskolnikov。　〃What　do　you
  mean？〃
  〃Well；　I've　just　come　from　one　and　it's　the　fifth　night　I've　slept
  so。。。。〃　He　filled　his　glass；　emptied　it　and　paused。　Bits　of　hay　were
  in　fact　clinging　to　his　clothes　and　sticking　to　his　hair。　It　seemed
  quite　probable　that　he　had　not　undressed　or　washed　for　the　last　five
  days。　His　hands；　particularly；　were　filthy。　They　were　fat　and　red；
  with　black　nails。
  His　conversation　seemed　to　excite　a　general　though　languid　interest。
  The　boys　at　the　counter　fell　to　sniggering。　The　innkeeper　came　down
  from　the　upper　room；　apparently　on　purpose　to　listen　to　the　〃funny
  fellow〃　and　sat　down　at　a　little　distance；　yawning　lazily；　but　with
  dignity。　Evidently　Marmeladov　was　a　familiar　figure　here；　and　he　had
  most　likely　acquired　his　weakness　for　high…flown　speeches　from　the
  habit　of　frequently　entering　into　conversation　with　strangers　of　all
  sorts　in　the　tavern。　This　habit　develops　into　a　necessity　in　some
  drunkards；　and　especially　in　those　who　are　looked　after　sharply　and
  kept　in　order　at　home。　Hence　in　the　company　of　other　drinkers　they　try
  to　justify　themselves　and　even　if　possible　obtain　consideration。
  〃Funny　fellow！〃　pronounced　the　innkeeper。　〃And　why　don't　you　work；
  why　aren't　you　at　your　duty；　if　you　are　in　the　service？〃
  〃Why　am　I　not　at　my　duty；　honoured　sir；〃　Marmeladov　went　on；
  addressing　himself　exclusively　to　Raskolnikov；　as　though　it　had　been
  he　who　put　that　question　to　him。　〃Why　am　I　not　at　my　duty？　Does　not　my
  heart　ache　to　think　what　a　useless　worm　I　am？　A　month　ago　when　Mr。
  Lebeziatnikov　beat　my　wife　with　his　own　hands；　and　I　lay　drunk；　didn't
  I　suffer？　Excuse　me；　young　man；　has　it　ever　happened　to　you。。。　hm。。。
  well；　to　petition　hopelessly　for　a　loan？〃
  〃Yes；　it　has。　But　what　do　you　mean　by　hopelessly？〃
  〃Hopelessly　in　the　fullest　sense；　when　you　know　beforehand　that
  you　will　get　nothing　by　it。　You　know；　for　instance；　beforehand　with
  positive　certainty　that　this　man；　this　most　reputable　and　exemplary
  citizen；　will　on　no　consideration　give　you　money；　and　indeed　I　ask　you
  why　should　he？　For　he　knows　of　course　that　I　shan't　pay　it　back。
  From　compassion？　But　Mr。　Lebeziatnikov　who　keeps　up　with　modern
  ideas　explained　the　other　day　that　compassion　is　forbidden　nowadays　by
  science　itself；　and　that　that's　what　is　done　now　in　England；　where
  there　is　political　economy。　Why；　I　ask　you；　should　he　give　it　to　me？
  And　yet　though　I　know　beforehand　that　he　won't；　I　set　off　to　him
  and。。。〃
  〃Why　do　you　go？〃　put　in　Raskolnikov。
  〃Well；　when　one　has　no　one；　nowhere　else　one　can　go！　For　every　man
  must　have　somewhere　to　go。　Since　there　are　times　when　one　absolutely
  must　go　somewhere！　When　my　own　daughter　first　went　out　with　a　yellow
  ticket；　then　I　had　to　go。。。　（for　my　daughter　has　a　yellow
  passport）；〃　he　added　in　parenthesis；　looking　with　a　certain　uneasiness
  at　the　young　man。　〃No　matter；　sir；　no　matter！〃　he　went　on　hurriedly
  and　with　apparent　composure　when　both　the　boys　at　the　counter　guffawed
  and　even　the　innkeeper　smiled…　〃No　matter；　I　am　not　confounded　by
  the　wagging　of　their　heads；　for　every　one　knows　everything　about　it
  already；　and　all　that　is　secret　is　made　open。　And　I　accept　it　all；　not
  with　contempt；　but　with　humility。　So　be　it！　So　be　it！　'Behold　the
  man！'　Excuse　me；　young　man；　can　you。。。。　No；　to　put　it　more　strongly
  and　more　distinctly；　not　can　you　but　dare　you；　looking　upon　me；　assert
  that　I　am　not　a　pig？〃
  The　young　man　did　not　answer　a　word。
  〃Well；〃　the　orator　began　again　stolidly　and　with　even　increased
  dignity；　after　waiting　for　the　laughter　in　the　room　to　subside。　〃Well；
  so　be　it；　I　am　a　pig；　but　she　is　a　lady！　I　have　the　semblance　of　a
  beast；　but　Katerina　Ivanovna；　my　spouse；　is　a　person　of　education
  and　an　officer's　daughter。　Granted；　granted；　I　am　a　scoundrel；　but　she
  is　a　woman　of　a　noble　heart；　full　of　sentiments；　refined　by　education。
  And　yet。。。　oh；　if　only　she　felt　for　me！　Honoured　sir；　honoured　sir；
  you　know　every　man　ought　to　have　at　least　one　place　where　people
  feel　for　him！　But　Katerina　Ivanovna；　though　she　is　magnanimous；　she　is
  unjust。。。。　And　yet；　although　I　realise　that　when　she　pulls　my　hair　she
  only　does　it　out　of　pity…　for　I　repeat　without　being　ashamed；　she
  pulls　my　hair；　young　man；〃　he　declared　with　redoubled　dignity；　hearing
  the　sniggering　again…　〃but；　my　God；　if　she　would　but　once。。。。　But
  no；　no！　It's　all　in　vain　and　it's　no　use　talking！　No　use　talking！
  For　more　than　once；　my　wish　did　come　true　and　more　than　once　she　has
  felt　for　me　but。。。　such　is　my　fate　and　I　am　a　beast　by　nature！〃
  〃Rather！〃　assented　the　innkeeper　yawning。　Marmeladov　struck　his　fist
  resolutely　on　the　table。
  〃Such　is　my　fate！　Do　you　know；　sir；　do　you　know；　I　have　sold　her
  very　stockings　for　drink？　Not　her　shoes…　that　would　be　more　or　less　in
  the　order　of　things；　but　her　stockings；　her　stockings　I　have　sold
  for　drink！　Her　mohair　shawl　I　sold