“Very much,” answered Dounia.
“Foo!—what a pig you are!” Razumihin protested, blushing in terrible confusion, and he got up from his chair. Pulcheria Alexandrovna smiled faintly, but Raskolnikov laughed aloud.
“Where are you off to?”
“I must go.”
“You need not at all. Stay. Zossimov has gone, so you must. Don’t go. What’s the time? Is it twelve o’clock? What a pretty watch you have got, Dounia. But why are you all silent again? I do all the talking.”
“It was a present from Marfa Petrovna,” answered Dounia.
“And a very expensive one!” added Pulcheria Alexandrovna.
“A-ah! What a big one! Hardly like a lady’s.”
“I like that sort,” said Dounia.
“So it is not a present from her fiancé,” thought Razumihin, and was unreasonably delighted.
“I thought it was Luzhin’s present,” observed Raskolnikov.
“No, he has not made Dounia any presents yet.”
“A-ah! And do you remember, mother, I was in love and wanted to get married?” he said suddenly, looking at his mother, who was disconcerted by the sudden change of subject and the way he spoke of it.
“Oh, yes, my dear.”
Pulcheria Alexandrovna exchanged glances with Dounia and Razumihin.