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Because we were alone, utterly alone," she said plaintively and

stopped short, suddenly, recollecting it was still somewhat

dangerous to speak of Pyotr Petrovitch, although "we are quite

happy again."

"Yes, yes.... Of course it's very annoying...." Raskolnikov

muttered in reply, but with such a preoccupied and inattentive

air that Dounia gazed at him in perplexity.

"What else was it I wanted to say?" He went on trying to

recollect. "Oh, yes; mother, and you too, Dounia, please don't

think that I didn't mean to come and see you to-day and was

waiting for you to come first."

"What are you saying, Rodya?" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. She,

too, was surprised.

"Is he answering us as a duty?" Dounia wondered. "Is he being

reconciled and asking forgiveness as though he were performing a

rite or repeating a lesson?"

"I've only just waked up, and wanted to go to you, but was

delayed owing to my clothes; I forgot yesterday to ask her...

Nastasya... to wash out the blood... I've only just dressed."