"Get along! He is a rogue and no mistake.

Get along!" And seizing Raskolnikov by the shoulder he flung him into the street.

He lurched forward, but recovered his footing, looked at the spectators in silence and walked away.
"Strange man!" observed the workman.
"There are strange folks about nowadays," said the woman.
"You should have taken him to the police station all the same," said the man in the long coat.
"Better have nothing to do with him," decided the big porter.

"A regular rogue! Just what he wants, you may be sure, but once take him up, you won't get rid of him....

We know the sort!" "Shall I go there or not ?" thought Raskolnikov, standing in the middle of the thoroughfare at the cross-roads, and he looked about him, as though expecting from someone a decisive word.