“It’s not Katerina Ivanovna I am afraid of now,” he muttered in agitation—“and that she will begin pulling my hair. What does my hair matter! Bother my hair! That’s what I say! Indeed it will be better if she does begin pulling it, that’s not what I am afraid of … it’s her eyes I am afraid of … yes, her eyes … the red on her cheeks, too, frightens me … and her breathing too. … Have you noticed how people in that disease breathe … when they are excited? I am frightened of the children’s crying, too. … For if Sonia has not taken them food … I don’t know what’s happened! I don’t know! But blows I am not afraid of. … Know, sir, that such blows are not a pain to me, but even an enjoyment. In fact I can’t get on without it. … It’s better so. Let her strike me, it relieves her heart … it’s better so … There is the house. The house of Kozel, the cabinetmaker … a German, well-to-do. Lead the way!”
They went in from the yard and up to the fourth storey. The staircase got darker and darker as they went up. It was