the landing, she seemed reassured, and flung the door open. The
young man entered a gloomy antechamber, divided by a partition,
behind which was a small kitchen. The old woman stood silently in
front of him, eyeing him keenly. She was a thin little creature of
sixty, with a small sharp nose, and eyes sparkling with malice.
Her head was uncovered, and her grizzled locks shone with grease.
A strip of flannel was wound round her long thin neck, and, in
spite of the heat, she wore a shabby yellow fur tippet on her
shoulders. She coughed incessantly. The young man was probably
eyeing her strangely, for the look of mistrust suddenly reappeared
on her face.

"The Student Raskolnikoff. I called on you a month ago," said the
visitor, hurriedly, with a slight bow. He had suddenly remembered
that he must make himself more agreeable.

"I remember, batuchka, I remember it well," returned the old woman,
still fixing her eyes on him suspiciously.

"Well, then, look here. I have come again on a similar errand,"
continued Raskolnikoff, somewhat surprised and uneasy at being
received with so much distrust. "After all, this may be her usual
manner, though I did not notice it before," thought he,
unpleasantly impressed.

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."*