The old woman remained silent a while, and seemed to reflect.  Then, pointing to the door of the inner room, she drew back for her visitor to pass, and said, “Come in, batuchka."[4]

The small room into which the young man was ushered was papered with yellow; there were geraniums and muslin curtains in the windows, and the setting sun shed a flood of light on the interior.  “The sun will shine on it just the same then!” said Raskolnikoff all at once to himself, as he glanced rapidly round to take in the various objects and engrave them on his memory.  The room, however, contained nothing remarkable.  The yellow wood furniture was all very old.  A couch with a shelving back, opposite which stood an oval table, a toilet-table with a pier glass attached, chairs lining the walls, and two or three poor prints representing German girls with birds in their hands, completed the inventory.  A lamp was burning in one corner in front of a small image.  The floor and furniture were clean and well polished.  “Elizabeth attends to that,” thought the young man.  It would have been difficult to find a speck of dust on anything.  “It is only in the houses of these dreadful old widows that such order is to be seen,” continued Raskolnikoff to himself, looking with curiosity at the chintz curtain overhanging the door which led into a second small room, in which he had never set foot; it contained the old woman’s bed and chest of drawers.  The apartment consisted of these two rooms.

“What is it you want?” asked the mistress of the house dryly; she had followed her visitor in, and planted herself in front of him to examine him more closely.

“I have come to pawn something, that is all!” With this he drew from his pocket a flat old silver watch.  A globe was engraved inside the lid, and the chain was of steel.

“But you have not repaid the sum I lent you before.  It was due two days ago.”

“I will pay you the interest for another month; have a little patience.”

“I may have patience or I may sell your pledge at once, batuchka, just whichever I like.”

“What will you give me on this watch, Alena Ivanovna?”

“That is a wretched thing, batuchka, worth a mere nothing.  Last time I lent you two small notes on your ring, when I could have bought a new one at the jeweler’s for a ruble and a half.”

“Give me four rubles, and I will redeem it; it belonged to my father.  I expect some money soon.”

“A ruble and a half! and I shall take the interest in advance.”

“A ruble and a half!” protested the young man.

“Please yourself whether you take it or not.”  So saying, the old woman tendered back the watch.  Her visitor took it and was about to depart in vexation, when he reflected that this money lender was his last resource—­and, besides, he had another object in coming.

“Come, fork out!” said he in a rough tone.