1 "Lizaveta's work," thought the young man.
2 The young man did not dispute it and took the money.
3 yes, all is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom.
4 The young man stepped into the dark entry, which was partitioned off from the tiny kitchen.
5 An expression of the profoundest disgust gleamed for a moment in the young man's refined face.
6 The young man, left standing alone in the middle of the room, listened inquisitively, thinking.
7 And each time he passed, the young man had a sick, frightened feeling, which made him scowl and feel ashamed.
8 The young man must have looked at her with a rather peculiar expression, for a gleam of mistrust came into her eyes again.
9 He was so badly dressed that even a man accustomed to shabbiness would have been ashamed to be seen in the street in such rags.
10 The young man was very glad to meet none of them, and at once slipped unnoticed through the door on the right, and up the staircase.
11 "Raskolnikov, a student, I came here a month ago," the young man made haste to mutter, with a half bow, remembering that he ought to be more polite.
12 He walked along the pavement like a drunken man, regardless of the passers-by, and jostling against them, and only came to his senses when he was in the next street.
13 But there was such accumulated bitterness and contempt in the young man's heart, that, in spite of all the fastidiousness of youth, he minded his rags least of all in the street.
14 The little room into which the young man walked, with yellow paper on the walls, geraniums and muslin curtains in the windows, was brightly lighted up at that moment by the setting sun.
15 The young man took it, and was so angry that he was on the point of going away; but checked himself at once, remembering that there was nowhere else he could go, and that he had had another object also in coming.
16 The heat in the street was terrible: and the airlessness, the bustle and the plaster, scaffolding, bricks, and dust all about him, and that special Petersburg stench, so familiar to all who are unable to get out of town in summer--all worked painfully upon the young man's already overwrought nerves.
17 And yet when a drunken man who, for some unknown reason, was being taken somewhere in a huge waggon dragged by a heavy dray horse, suddenly shouted at him as he drove past: "Hey there, German hatter" bawling at the top of his voice and pointing at him--the young man stopped suddenly and clutched tremulously at his hat.
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