Pyotr Petrovitch stole a glance at Raskolnikov. Their eyes met, and the fire in Raskolnikov’s seemed ready to reduce him to ashes. Meanwhile Katerina Ivanovna apparently heard nothing. She was kissing and hugging Sonia like a madwoman. The children, too, were embracing Sonia on all sides, and Polenka⁠—though she did not fully understand what was wrong⁠—was drowned in tears and shaking with sobs, as she hid her pretty little face, swollen with weeping, on Sonia’s shoulder.

“How vile!” a loud voice cried suddenly in the doorway.

Pyotr Petrovitch looked round quickly.

“What vileness!” Lebeziatnikov repeated, staring him straight in the face.

Pyotr Petrovitch gave a positive start⁠—all noticed it and recalled it afterwards. Lebeziatnikov strode into the room.

“And you dared to call me as witness?” he said, going up to Pyotr Petrovitch.