the hospital, she will die, and the children …”
“Oh, no. … God will not let it be!” broke at last from Sonia’s overburdened bosom.
She listened, looking imploringly at him, clasping her hands in dumb entreaty, as though it all depended upon him.
Raskolnikov got up and began to walk about the room. A minute passed. Sonia was standing with her hands and her head hanging in terrible dejection.
“And can’t you save? Put by for a rainy day?” he asked, stopping suddenly before her.
“No,” whispered Sonia.
“Of course not. Have you tried?” he added almost ironically.
“Yes.”
“And it didn’t come off! Of course not! No need to ask.”
And again he paced the room. Another minute passed.
“You don’t get money every day?”
Sonia was more confused than ever and