"It was Svidrigaïlov, that landowner in whose house my sister was
insulted when she was their governess. Through his persecuting her with
his attentions, she was turned out by his wife, Marfa Petrovna. This
Marfa Petrovna begged Dounia's forgiveness afterwards, and she's just
died suddenly. It was of her we were talking this morning. I don't
know why I'm afraid of that man. He came here at once after his wife's
funeral. He is very strange, and is determined on doing something.... We
must guard Dounia from him... that's what I wanted to tell you, do you
hear?"

"Guard her! What can he do to harm Avdotya Romanovna? Thank you, Rodya,
for speaking to me like that.... We will, we will guard her. Where does
he live?"

"I don't know."

"Why didn't you ask? What a pity! I'll find out, though."

"Did you see him?" asked Raskolnikov after a pause.

"Yes, I noticed him, I noticed him well."

"You did really see him? You saw him clearly?" Raskolnikov insisted.

"Yes, I remember him perfectly, I should know him in a thousand; I have
a good memory for faces."

They were silent again.

"Hm!... that's all right," muttered Raskolnikov. "Do you know, I