Let us go, sir," said Marmeladov all at once, raising his head and addressing Raskolnikov — "come along with me . . . Kozel's house, looking into the yard. I'm going to Katerina Ivanovna — time I did."Raskolnikov had for some time been wanting to go and he had meant to help him. Marmeladov was much unsteadier on his legs than in his speech and leaned heavily on the young man. They had two or three hundred paces to go. The drunken man was more and more overcome by dismay and confusion as they drew nearer the house."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
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