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"Quite right, Dounia. Well, since you have decided," added

Pulcheria Alexandrovna, "so be it. I shall feel easier myself. I

do not like concealment and deception. Better let us have the

whole truth.... Pyotr Petrovitch may be angry or not, now!"

CHAPTER IV

At that moment the door was softly opened, and a young girl

walked into the room, looking timidly about her. Everyone turned

towards her with surprise and curiosity. At first sight,

Raskolnikov did not recognise her. It was Sofya Semyonovna

Marmeladov. He had seen her yesterday for the first time, but at

such a moment, in such surroundings and in such a dress, that his

memory retained a very different image of her. Now she was a

modestly and poorly-dressed young girl, very young, indeed,

almost like a child, with a modest and refined manner, with a

candid but somewhat frightened-looking face. She was wearing a

very plain indoor dress, and had on a shabby old-fashioned hat,

but she still carried a parasol. Unexpectedly finding the room

full of people, she was not so much embarrassed as completely

overwhelmed with shyness, like a little child. She was even about

to retreat. "Oh... it's you!" said Raskolnikov, extremely

astonished, and he, too, was confused.