At　that　moment　Polenka　forced　her　way　through　the　crowd　at　the　door。
  She　came　in　panting　from　running　so　fast；　took　off　her　kerchief；
  looked　for　her　mother；　went　up　to　her　and　said；　〃She's　coming；　I　met
  her　in　the　street。〃　Her　mother　made　her　kneel　beside　her。
  Timidly　and　noiselessly　a　young　girl　made　her　way　through　the　crowd；
  and　strange　was　her　appearance　in　that　room；　in　the　midst　of　want；
  rags；　death　and　despair。　She；　too；　was　in　rags；　her　attire　was　all
  of　the　cheapest；　but　decked　out　in　gutter　finery　of　a　special　stamp；
  unmistakably　betraying　its　shameful　purpose。　Sonia　stopped　short　in
  the　doorway　and　looked　about　her　bewildered；　unconscious　of
  everything。　She　forgot　her　fourth…hand；　gaudy　silk　dress；　so
  unseemly　here　with　its　ridiculous　long　train；　and　her　immense
  crinoline　that　filled　up　the　whole　doorway；　and　her　light…coloured
  shoes；　and　the　parasol　she　brought　with　her；　though　it　was　no　use　at
  night；　and　the　absurd　round　straw　hat　with　its　flaring
  flame…coloured　feather。　Under　this　rakishly…tilted　hat　was　a　pale；
  frightened　little　face　with　lips　parted　and　eyes　staring　in　terror。
  Sonia　was　a　small　thin　girl　of　eighteen　with　fair　hair；　rather　pretty；
  with　wonderful　blue　eyes。　She　looked　intently　at　the　bed　and　the
  priest；　she　too　was　out　of　breath　with　running。　At　last　whispers；　some
  words　in　the　crowd　probably；　reached　her。　She　looked　down　and　took　a
  step　forward　into　the　room；　still　keeping　close　to　the　door。
  The　service　was　over。　Katerina　Ivanovna　went　up　to　her　husband
  again。　The　priest　stepped　back　and　turned　to　say　a　few　words　of
  admonition　and　consolation　to　Katerina　Ivanovna　on　leaving。
  〃What　am　I　to　do　with　these？〃　she　interrupted　sharply　and　irritably；
  pointing　to　the　little　ones。
  〃God　is　merciful；　look　to　the　Most　High　for　succour；〃　the　priest
  began。
  〃Ach！　He　is　merciful；　but　not　to　us。〃
  〃That's　a　sin；　a　sin；　madam；〃　observed　the　priest；　shaking　his　head。
  〃And　isn't　that　a　sin？〃　cried　Katerina　Ivanovna；　pointing　to　the
  dying　man。
  〃Perhaps　those　who　have　involuntarily　caused　the　accident　will　agree
  to　compensate　you；　at　least　for　the　loss　of　his　earnings。〃
  〃You　don't　understand！〃　cried　Katerina　Ivanovna　angrily　waving　her
  hand。　〃And　why　should　they　compensate　me？　Why；　he　was　drunk　and
  threw　himself　under　the　horses！　What　earnings？　He　brought　us　in
  nothing　but　misery。　He　drank　everything　away；　the　drunkard！　He
  robbed　us　to　get　drink；　he　wasted　their　lives　and　mine　for　drink！
  And　thank　God　he's　dying！　One　less　to　keep！〃
  〃You　must　forgive　in　the　hour　of　death；　that's　a　sin；　madam；　such
  feelings　are　a　great　sin。〃
  Katerina　Ivanovna　was　busy　with　the　dying　man；　she　was　giving　him
  water；　wiping　the　blood　and　sweat　from　his　head；　setting　his　pillow
  straight；　and　had　only　turned　now　and　then　for　a　moment　to　address　the
  priest。　Now　she　flew　at　him　almost　in　a　frenzy。
  〃Ah；　father！　That's　words　and　only　words！　Forgive！　If　he'd　not
  been　run　over；　he'd　have　come　home　to…day　drunk　and　his　only　shirt
  dirty　and　in　rags　and　he'd　have　fallen　asleep　like　a　log；　and　I　should
  have　been　sousing　and　rinsing　till　daybreak；　washing　his　rags　and
  the　children's　and　then　drying　them　by　the　window　and　as　soon　as　it
  was　daylight　I　should　have　been　darning　them。　That's　how　I　spend　my
  nights！。。。　What's　the　use　of　talking　of　forgiveness！　I　have　forgiven
  as　it　is！〃
  A　terrible　hollow　cough　interrupted　her　words。　She　put　her
  handkerchief　to　her　lips　and　showed　it　to　the　priest；　pressing　her
  other　hand　to　her　aching　chest。　The　handkerchief　was　covered　with
  blood。　The　priest　bowed　his　head　and　said　nothing。
  Marmeladov　was　in　the　last　agony；　he　did　not　take　his　eyes　off　the
  face　of　Katerina　Ivanovna；　who　was　bending　over　him　again。　He　kept
  trying　to　say　something　to　her；　he　began　moving　his　tongue　with
  difficulty　and　articulating　indistinctly；　but　Katerina　Ivanovna；
  understanding　that　he　wanted　to　ask　her　forgiveness；　called
  peremptorily　to　him：
  〃Be　silent！　No　need！　I　know　what　you　want　to　say！〃　And　the　sick
  man　was　silent；　but　at　the　same　instant　his　wandering　eyes　strayed
  to　the　doorway　and　he　saw　Sonia。
  Till　then　he　had　not　noticed　her：　she　was　standing　in　the　shadow
  in　a　corner。
  〃Who's　that？　Who's　that？〃　he　said　suddenly　in　a　thick　gasping　voice；
  in　agitation；　turning　his　eyes　in　horror　towards　the　door　where　his
  daughter　was　standing；　and　trying　to　sit　up。
  〃Lie　down！　Lie　do…own！〃　cried　Katerina　Ivanovna。
  With　unnatural　strength　he　had　succeeded　in　propping　himself　on
  his　elbow。　He　looked　wildly　and　fixedly　for　some　time　on　his　daughter；
  as　though　not　recognising　her。　He　had　never　seen　her　before　in　such
  attire。　Suddenly　he　recognised　her；　crushed　and　ashamed　in　her
  humiliation　and　gaudy　finery；　meekly　awaiting　her　turn　to　say　good…bye
  to　her　dying　father。　His　face　showed　intense　suffering。
  〃Sonia！　Daughter！　Forgive！〃　he　cried；　and　he　tried　to　hold　out　his
  hand　to　her；　but　losing　his　balance；　he　fell　off　the　sofa；　face
  downwards　on　the　floor。　They　rushed　to　pick　him　up；　they　put　him　on
  the　sofa；　but　he　was　dying。　Sonia　with　a　faint　cry　ran　up；　embraced
  him　and　remained　so　without　moving。　He　died　in　her　arms。
  〃He's　got　what　he　wanted；〃　Katerina　Ivanovna　cried；　seeing　her
  husband's　dead　body。　〃Well；　what's　to　be　done　now？　How　am　I　to　bury
  him！　What　can　I　give　them　to…morrow　to　eat？〃
  Raskolnikov　went　up　to　Katerina　Ivanovna。
  〃Katerina　Ivanovna；〃　he　began；　〃last　week　your　husband　told　me　all
  his　life　and　circumstances。。。。　Believe　me；　he　spoke　of　you　with
  passionate　reverence。　From　that　evening；　when　I　learnt　how　devoted
  he　was　to　you　all　and　how　he　loved　and　respected　you　especially；
  Katerina　Ivanovna；　in　spite　of　his　unfortunate　weakness；　from　that
  evening　we　became　friends。。。。　Allow　me　now。。。　to　do　something。。。　to
  repay　my　debt　to　my　dead　friend。　Here　are　twenty　roubles　I　think…
  and　if　that　can　be　of　any　assistance　to　you；　then。。。　I。。。　in　short；
  I　will　come　again；　I　will　be　sure　to　come　again。。。　I　shall；　perhaps；
  come　again　to…morrow。。。。　Good…bye！〃
  And　he　went　quickly　out　of　the　room；　squeezing　his　way　through　the
  crowd　to　the　stairs。　But　in　the　crowd　he　suddenly　jostled　against
  Nikodim　Fomitch；　who　had　heard　of　the　accident　and　had　come　to　give
  instructions　in　person。　They　had　not　met　since　the　scene　at　the　police
  station；　but　Nikodim　Fomitch　knew　him　instantly。
  〃Ah；　is　that　you？〃　he　asked　him。
  〃He's　dead；〃　answered　Raskolnikov。　〃The　doctor　and　the　priest　have
  been；　all　as　it　should　have　been。　Don't　worry　the　poor　woman　too　much；
  she　is　in　consumption　as　it　is。　Try　and　cheer　her　up；　if　possible。。。
  you　are　a　kind…hearted　man；　I　know。。。〃　he　added　with　a　smile；
  looking　straight　in　his　face。
  〃But　you　are　spattered　with　blood；〃　observed　Nikodim　Fomitch；
  noticing　in　the　lamplight　some　fresh　stains　on　Raskolnikov's
  waistcoat。
  〃Yes。。。　I'm　covered　with　blood；〃　Raskolnikov　said　with　a　peculiar
  air；　then　he　smiled；　nodded　and　went　downstairs。
  He　walked　down　slowly　and　deliberately；　feverish　but　not　conscious
  of　it；　entirely　absorbed　in　a　new　overwhelming　sensation　of　life　and
  strength　that　surged　up　suddenly　within　him。　This　sensation　might　be
  compared　to　that　of　a　man　condemned　to　death　who　has　suddenly　been
  pardoned。　Halfway　down　the　stairca