Almost fainting, she sank on to a chair which Svidrigaïlov made haste to give her.

“Avdotya Romanovna, what is it? Control yourself! Here is some water. Drink a little.⁠ ⁠…”

He sprinkled some water over her. Dounia shuddered and came to herself.

“It has acted violently,” Svidrigaïlov muttered to himself, frowning. “Avdotya Romanovna, calm yourself! Believe me, he has friends. We will save him. Would you like me to take him abroad? I have money, I can get a ticket in three days. And as for the murder, he will do all sorts of good deeds yet, to atone for it. Calm yourself. He may become a great man yet. Well, how are you? How do you feel?”

“Cruel man! To be able to jeer at it! Let me go⁠ ⁠…”

“Where are you going?”