He was not completely unconscious, however, all the time he was ill; he was in a feverish state, sometimes delirious, sometimes half conscious. He remembered a great deal afterwards. Sometimes it seemed as though there were a number of people round him; they wanted to take him away somewhere, there was a great deal of squabbling and discussing about him. Then he would be alone in the room; they had all gone away afraid of him, and only now and then opened the door a crack to look at him; they threatened him, plotted something together, laughed, and mocked at him. He remembered Nastasya often at his bedside; he distinguished another person, too, whom he seemed to know very well, though he could not remember who he was, and this fretted him, even made him cry. Sometimes he fancied he had been lying there a month; at other times it all seemed part of the same day. But ofย thatโofย thatย he had no recollection, and yet every minute he felt that he had forgotten something he ought to remember. He worried and tormented himself trying to remember, moaned, flew into a rage, or sank into awful, intolerable terror. Then he struggled to get up, would have run away, but someone always prevented him by force, and he sank back into impotence and forgetfulness. At last he returned to complete consciousness.
It happened at ten oโclock in the morning. On fine days the sun shone into the room at that hour, throwing a streak of light on the right wall and the corner near the door. Nastasya was standing beside him with another person, a complete stranger, who was looking at him very inquisitively. He was a young man with a beard, wearing a full, short-waisted coat, and looked like a messenger. The landlady was peeping in at the half-opened door. Raskolnikov sat up.
โWho is this, Nastasya?โ he asked, pointing to the young man.
โI say, heโs himself again!โ she said.
โHe is himself,โ echoed the man.
Concluding that he had returned to his senses, the landlady closed the door and disappeared. She was always shy and dreaded conversations or discussions. She was a woman of forty, not at all bad-looking, fat and buxom, with black eyes and eyebrows, good-natured from fatness and laziness, and absurdly bashful.
โWho… are you?โ he went on, addressing the man. But at that moment the door was flung open, and, stooping a little, as he was so tall, Razumihin came in.
โWhat a cabin it is!โ he cried. โI am always knocking my head. You call this a lodging! So you are conscious, brother? Iโve just heard the news from Pashenka.โ
โHe has just come to,โ said Nastasya.
โJust come to,โ echoed the man again, with a smile.
โAnd who are you?โ Razumihin asked, suddenly addressing him. โMy name is Vrazumihin, at your service; not Razumihin, as I am always called, but Vrazumihin, a student and gentleman; and he is my friend. And who are you?โ
โI am the messenger from our office, from the merchant Shelopaev, and Iโve come on business.โ
โPlease sit down.โ Razumihin seated himself on the other side of the table. โItโs a good thing youโve come to, brother,โ he went on to Raskolnikov. โFor the last four days you have scarcely eaten or drunk anything. We had to give you tea in spoonfuls. I brought Zossimov to see you twice. You remember Zossimov? He examined you carefully and said at once it was nothing seriousโsomething seemed to have gone to your head. Some nervous nonsense, the result of bad feeding, he says you have not had enough beer and radish, but itโs nothing much, it will pass and you will be all right. Zossimov is a first-rate fellow! He is making quite a name. Come, I wonโt keep you,โ he said, addressing the man again. โWill you explain what you want? You must know, Rodya, this is the second time they have sent from the office; but it was another man last time, and I talked to him. Who was it came before?โ
โThat was the day before yesterday, I venture to say, if you please, sir. That was Alexey Semyonovitch; he is in our office, too.โ
โHe was more intelligent than you, donโt you think so?โ
โYes, indeed, sir, he is of more weight than I am.โ
โQuite so; go on.โ
โAt your mammaโs request, through Afanasy Ivanovitch Vahrushin, of whom I presume you have heard more than once, a remittance is sent to you from our office,โ the man began, addressing Raskolnikov. โIf you are in an intelligible condition, Iโve thirty-five roubles to remit to you, as Semyon Semyonovitch has received from Afanasy Ivanovitch at your mammaโs request instructions to that effect, as on previous occasions. Do you know him, sir?โ
โYes, I remember… Vahrushin,โ Raskolnikov said dreamily.
โYou hear, he knows Vahrushin,โ cried Razumihin. โHe is in โan intelligible conditionโ! And I see you are an intelligent man too. Well, itโs always pleasant to hear words of wisdom.โ
โThatโs the gentleman, Vahrushin, Afanasy Ivanovitch. And at the request of your mamma, who has sent you a remittance once before in the same manner through him, he did not refuse this time also, and sent instructions to Semyon Semyonovitch some days since to hand you thirty-five roubles in the hope of better to come.โ
โThat โhoping for better to comeโ is the best thing youโve said, though โyour mammaโ is not bad either. Come then, what do you say? Is he fully conscious, eh?โ
โThatโs all right. If only he can sign this little paper.โ
โHe can scrawl his name. Have you got the book?โ
โYes, hereโs the book.โ
โGive it to me. Here, Rodya, sit up. Iโll hold you. Take the pen and scribble โRaskolnikovโ for him. For just now, brother, money is sweeter to us than treacle.โ
โI donโt want it,โ said Raskolnikov, pushing away the pen.
โNot want it?โ
โI wonโt sign it.โ
โHow the devil can you do without signing it?โ
โI donโt want… the money.โ
โDonโt want the money! Come, brother, thatโs nonsense, I bear witness. Donโt trouble, please, itโs only that he is on his travels again. But thatโs pretty common with him at all times though…. You are a man of judgment and we will take him in hand, that is, more simply, take his hand and he will sign it. Here.โ
โBut I can come another time.โ
โNo, no. Why should we trouble you? You are a man of judgment…. Now, Rodya, donโt keep your visitor, you see he is waiting,โ and he made ready to hold Raskolnikovโs hand in earnest.
โStop, Iโll do it alone,โ said the latter, taking the pen and signing his name.
The messenger took out the money and went away.
โBravo! And now, brother, are you hungry?โ
โYes,โ answered Raskolnikov.
โIs there any soup?โ
โSome of yesterdayโs,โ answered Nastasya, who was still standing there.
โWith potatoes and rice in it?โ
โYes.โ
โI know it by heart. Bring soup and give us some tea.โ
โVery well.โ
Raskolnikov looked at all this with profound astonishment and a dull, unreasoning terror. He made up his mind to keep quiet and see what would happen. โI believe I am not wandering. I believe itโs reality,โ he thought.
In a couple of minutes Nastasya returned with the soup, and announced that the tea would be ready directly. With the soup she brought two spoons, two plates, salt, pepper, mustard for the beef, and so on. The table was set as it had not been for a long time. The cloth was clean.
โIt would not be amiss, Nastasya, if Praskovya Pavlovna were to send us up a couple of bottles of beer. We could empty them.โ
โWell, you are a cool hand,โ muttered Nastasya, and she departed to carry out his orders.
Raskolnikov still gazed wildly with strained attention. Meanwhile Razumihin sat down on the sofa beside him, as clumsily as a bear put his left arm round Raskolnikovโs head, although he was able to sit up, and with his right hand gave him a spoonful of soup, blowing on it that it might not burn him. But the soup was only just warm. Raskolnikov swallowed one spoonful greedily, then a second, then a third. But after giving him a few more spoonfuls of soup, Razumihin suddenly stopped, and said that he must ask Zossimov whether he ought to have more.
Nastasya came in with two bottles of beer.
โAnd will you have tea?โ
โYes.โ
โCut along, Nastasya, and bring some tea, for tea we may venture on without the faculty. But here is the beer!โ He moved back to his chair, pulled the soup and meat in front of him, and began eating as though he had not touched food for three days.
โI must tell you, Rodya, I dine like this here every day now,โ he mumbled with his mouth full of beef, โand itโs all Pashenka, your dear little landlady, who sees to that; she loves to do anything for me. I donโt ask for it, but, of course, I donโt object. And hereโs Nastasya with the tea. She is a quick girl. Nastasya, my dear, wonโt you have some beer?โ
โGet along with your nonsense!โ
โA cup of tea, then?โ
โA cup of tea, maybe.โ
โPour it out. Stay, Iโll pour it out myself. Sit down.โ
He poured out two cups, left his dinner, and sat on the sofa again. As before, he put his left arm round the sick manโs head, raised him up and gave him tea in spoonfuls, again blowing each spoonful steadily and earnestly, as though this process was the principal and most effective means towards his friendโs recovery. Raskolnikov said nothing and made no resistance, though he felt quite strong enough to sit up on the sofa without support and could not merely have held a cup or a spoon, but even perhaps could have walked about. But from some queer, almost animal, cunning he conceived the idea of hiding his strength and lying low for a time, pretending if necessary not to be yet in full possession of his faculties, and meanwhile listening to find out what was going on. Yet he could not overcome his sense of repugnance. After sipping a dozen spoonfuls of tea, he suddenly released his head, pushed the spoon away capriciously, and sank back on the pillow. There were actually real pillows under his head now, down pillows in clean cases, he observed that, too, and took note of it.
โPashenka must give us some raspberry jam to-day to make him some raspberry tea,โ said Razumihin, going back to his chair and attacking his soup and beer again.
โAnd where is she to get raspberries for you?โ asked Nastasya, balancing a saucer on her five outspread fingers and sipping tea through a lump of sugar.
โSheโll get it at the shop, my dear. You see, Rodya, all sorts of things have been happening while you have been laid up. When you decamped in that rascally way without leaving your address, I felt so angry that I resolved to find you out and punish you. I set to work that very day. How I ran about making inquiries for you! This lodging of yours I had forgotten, though I never remembered it, indeed, because I did not know it; and as for your old lodgings, I could only remember it was at the Five Corners, Harlamovโs house. I kept trying to find that Harlamovโs house, and afterwards it turned out that it was not Harlamovโs, but Buchโs. How one muddles up sound sometimes! So I lost my temper, and I went on the chance to the address bureau next day, and only fancy, in two minutes they looked you up! Your name is down there.โ
โMy name!โ
โI should think so; and yet a General Kobelev they could not find while I was there. Well, itโs a long story. But as soon as I did land on this place, I soon got to know all your affairsโall, all, brother, I know everything; Nastasya here will tell you. I made the acquaintance of Nikodim Fomitch and Ilya Petrovitch, and the house-porter and Mr. Zametov, Alexandr Grigorievitch, the head clerk in the police office, and, last, but not least, of Pashenka; Nastasya here knows….โ
โHeโs got round her,โ Nastasya murmured, smiling slyly.
โWhy donโt you put the sugar in your tea, Nastasya Nikiforovna?โ
โYou are a one!โ Nastasya cried suddenly, going off into a giggle. โI am not Nikiforovna, but Petrovna,โ she added suddenly, recovering from her mirth.
โIโll make a note of it. Well, brother, to make a long story short, I was going in for a regular explosion here to uproot all malignant influences in the locality, but Pashenka won the day. I had not expected, brother, to find her so… prepossessing. Eh, what do you think?โ
Raskolnikov did not speak, but he still kept his eyes fixed upon him, full of alarm.
โAnd all that could be wished, indeed, in every respect,โ Razumihin went on, not at all embarrassed by his silence.
โAh, the sly dog!โ Nastasya shrieked again. This conversation afforded her unspeakable delight.
โItโs a pity, brother, that you did not set to work in the right way at first. You ought to have approached her differently. She is, so to speak, a most unaccountable character. But we will talk about her character later…. How could you let things come to such a pass that she gave up sending you your dinner? And that I O U? You must have been mad to sign an I O U. And that promise of marriage when her daughter, Natalya Yegorovna, was alive?… I know all about it! But I see thatโs a delicate matter and I am an ass; forgive me. But, talking of foolishness, do you know Praskovya Pavlovna is not nearly so foolish as you would think at first sight?โ
โNo,โ mumbled Raskolnikov, looking away, but feeling that it was better to keep up the conversation.
โShe isnโt, is she?โ cried Razumihin, delighted to get an answer out of him. โBut she is not very clever either, eh? She is essentially, essentially an unaccountable character! I am sometimes quite at a loss, I assure you…. She must be forty; she says she is thirty-six, and of course she has every right to say so. But I swear I judge her intellectually, simply from the metaphysical point of view; there is a sort of symbolism sprung up between us, a sort of algebra or what not! I donโt understand it! Well, thatโs all nonsense. Only, seeing that you are not a student now and have lost your lessons and your clothes, and that through the young ladyโs death she has no need to treat you as a relation, she suddenly took fright; and as you hid in your den and dropped all your old relations with her, she planned to get rid of you. And sheโs been cherishing that design a long time, but was sorry to lose the I O U, for you assured her yourself that your mother would pay.โ
โIt was base of me to say that…. My mother herself is almost a beggar… and I told a lie to keep my lodging… and be fed,โ Raskolnikov said loudly and distinctly.
โYes, you did very sensibly. But the worst of it is that at that point Mr. Tchebarov turns up, a business man. Pashenka would never have thought of doing anything on her own account, she is too retiring; but the business man is by no means retiring, and first thing he puts the question, โIs there any hope of realising the I O U?โ Answer: there is, because he has a mother who would save her Rodya with her hundred and twenty-five roubles pension, if she has to starve herself; and a sister, too, who would go into bondage for his sake. Thatโs what he was building upon…. Why do you start? I know all the ins and outs of your affairs now, my dear boyโitโs not for nothing that you were so open with Pashenka when you were her prospective son-in-law, and I say all this as a friend…. But I tell you what it is; an honest and sensitive man is open; and a business man โlistens and goes on eatingโ you up. Well, then she gave the I O U by way of payment to this Tchebarov, and without hesitation he made a formal demand for payment. When I heard of all this I wanted to blow him up, too, to clear my conscience, but by that time harmony reigned between me and Pashenka, and I insisted on stopping the whole affair, engaging that you would pay. I went security for you, brother. Do you understand? We called Tchebarov, flung him ten roubles and got the I O U back from him, and here I have the honour of presenting it to you. She trusts your word now. Here, take it, you see I have torn it.โ
Razumihin put the note on the table. Raskolnikov looked at him and turned to the wall without uttering a word. Even Razumihin felt a twinge.
โI see, brother,โ he said a moment later, โthat I have been playing the fool again. I thought I should amuse you with my chatter, and I believe I have only made you cross.โ
โWas it you I did not recognise when I was delirious?โ Raskolnikov asked, after a momentโs pause without turning his head.
โYes, and you flew into a rage about it, especially when I brought Zametov one day.โ
โZametov? The head clerk? What for?โ Raskolnikov turned round quickly and fixed his eyes on Razumihin.
โWhatโs the matter with you?… What are you upset about? He wanted to make your acquaintance because I talked to him a lot about you…. How could I have found out so much except from him? He is a capital fellow, brother, first-rate… in his own way, of course. Now we are friendsโsee each other almost every day. I have moved into this part, you know. I have only just moved. Iโve been with him to Luise Ivanovna once or twice…. Do you remember Luise, Luise Ivanovna?
โDid I say anything in delirium?โ
โI should think so! You were beside yourself.โ
โWhat did I rave about?โ
โWhat next? What did you rave about? What people do rave about…. Well, brother, now I must not lose time. To work.โ He got up from the table and took up his cap.
โWhat did I rave about?โ
โHow he keeps on! Are you afraid of having let out some secret? Donโt worry yourself; you said nothing about a countess. But you said a lot about a bulldog, and about ear-rings and chains, and about Krestovsky Island, and some porter, and Nikodim Fomitch and Ilya Petrovitch, the assistant superintendent. And another thing that was of special interest to you was your own sock. You whined, โGive me my sock.โ Zametov hunted all about your room for your socks, and with his own scented, ring-bedecked fingers he gave you the rag. And only then were you comforted, and for the next twenty-four hours you held the wretched thing in your hand; we could not get it from you. It is most likely somewhere under your quilt at this moment. And then you asked so piteously for fringe for your trousers. We tried to find out what sort of fringe, but we could not make it out. Now to business! Here are thirty-five roubles; I take ten of them, and shall give you an account of them in an hour or two. I will let Zossimov know at the same time, though he ought to have been here long ago, for it is nearly twelve. And you, Nastasya, look in pretty often while I am away, to see whether he wants a drink or anything else. And I will tell Pashenka what is wanted myself. Good-bye!โ
โHe calls her Pashenka! Ah, heโs a deep one!โ said Nastasya as he went out; then she opened the door and stood listening, but could not resist running downstairs after him. She was very eager to hear what he would say to the landlady. She was evidently quite fascinated by Razumihin.
No sooner had she left the room than the sick man flung off the bedclothes and leapt out of bed like a madman. With burning, twitching impatience he had waited for them to be gone so that he might set to work. But to what work? Now, as though to spite him, it eluded him.
โGood God, only tell me one thing: do they know of it yet or not? What if they know it and are only pretending, mocking me while I am laid up, and then they will come in and tell me that itโs been discovered long ago and that they have only… What am I to do now? Thatโs what Iโve forgotten, as though on purpose; forgotten it all at once, I remembered a minute ago.โ
He stood in the middle of the room and gazed in miserable bewilderment about him; he walked to the door, opened it, listened; but that was not what he wanted. Suddenly, as though recalling something, he rushed to the corner where there was a hole under the paper, began examining it, put his hand into the hole, fumbledโbut that was not it. He went to the stove, opened it and began rummaging in the ashes; the frayed edges of his trousers and the rags cut off his pocket were lying there just as he had thrown them. No one had looked, then! Then he remembered the sock about which Razumihin had just been telling him. Yes, there it lay on the sofa under the quilt, but it was so covered with dust and grime that Zametov could not have seen anything on it.
โBah, Zametov! The police office! And why am I sent for to the police office? Whereโs the notice? Bah! I am mixing it up; that was then. I looked at my sock then, too, but now… now I have been ill. But what did Zametov come for? Why did Razumihin bring him?โ he muttered, helplessly sitting on the sofa again. โWhat does it mean? Am I still in delirium, or is it real? I believe it is real…. Ah, I remember; I must escape! Make haste to escape. Yes, I must, I must escape! Yes… but where? And where are my clothes? Iโve no boots. Theyโve taken them away! Theyโve hidden them! I understand! Ah, here is my coatโthey passed that over! And here is money on the table, thank God! And hereโs the I O U… Iโll take the money and go and take another lodging. They wonโt find me!… Yes, but the address bureau? Theyโll find me, Razumihin will find me. Better escape altogether… far away… to America, and let them do their worst! And take the I O U… it would be of use there…. What else shall I take? They think I am ill! They donโt know that I can walk, ha-ha-ha! I could see by their eyes that they know all about it! If only I could get downstairs! And what if they have set a watch thereโpolicemen! Whatโs this tea? Ah, and here is beer left, half a bottle, cold!โ
He snatched up the bottle, which still contained a glassful of beer, and gulped it down with relish, as though quenching a flame in his breast. But in another minute the beer had gone to his head, and a faint and even pleasant shiver ran down his spine. He lay down and pulled the quilt over him. His sick and incoherent thoughts grew more and more disconnected, and soon a light, pleasant drowsiness came upon him. With a sense of comfort he nestled his head into the pillow, wrapped more closely about him the soft, wadded quilt which had replaced the old, ragged greatcoat, sighed softly and sank into a deep, sound, refreshing sleep.
He woke up, hearing someone come in. He opened his eyes and saw Razumihin standing in the doorway, uncertain whether to come in or not. Raskolnikov sat up quickly on the sofa and gazed at him, as though trying to recall something.
โAh, you are not asleep! Here I am! Nastasya, bring in the parcel!โ Razumihin shouted down the stairs. โYou shall have the account directly.โ
โWhat time is it?โ asked Raskolnikov, looking round uneasily.
โYes, you had a fine sleep, brother, itโs almost evening, it will be six oโclock directly. You have slept more than six hours.โ
โGood heavens! Have I?โ
โAnd why not? It will do you good. Whatโs the hurry? A tryst, is it? Weโve all time before us. Iโve been waiting for the last three hours for you; Iโve been up twice and found you asleep. Iโve called on Zossimov twice; not at home, only fancy! But no matter, he will turn up. And Iโve been out on my own business, too. You know Iโve been moving to-day, moving with my uncle. I have an uncle living with me now. But thatโs no matter, to business. Give me the parcel, Nastasya. We will open it directly. And how do you feel now, brother?โ
โI am quite well, I am not ill. Razumihin, have you been here long?โ
โI tell you Iโve been waiting for the last three hours.โ
โNo, before.โ
โHow do you mean?โ
โHow long have you been coming here?โ
โWhy I told you all about it this morning. Donโt you remember?โ
Raskolnikov pondered. The morning seemed like a dream to him. He could not remember alone, and looked inquiringly at Razumihin.
โHm!โ said the latter, โhe has forgotten. I fancied then that you were not quite yourself. Now you are better for your sleep…. You really look much better. First-rate! Well, to business. Look here, my dear boy.โ
He began untying the bundle, which evidently interested him.
โBelieve me, brother, this is something specially near my heart. For we must make a man of you. Letโs begin from the top. Do you see this cap?โ he said, taking out of the bundle a fairly good though cheap and ordinary cap. โLet me try it on.โ
โPresently, afterwards,โ said Raskolnikov, waving it off pettishly.
โCome, Rodya, my boy, donโt oppose it, afterwards will be too late; and I shanโt sleep all night, for I bought it by guess, without measure. Just right!โ he cried triumphantly, fitting it on, โjust your size! A proper head-covering is the first thing in dress and a recommendation in its own way. Tolstyakov, a friend of mine, is always obliged to take off his pudding basin when he goes into any public place where other people wear their hats or caps. People think he does it from slavish politeness, but itโs simply because he is ashamed of his birdโs nest; he is such a boastful fellow! Look, Nastasya, here are two specimens of headgear: this Palmerstonโโhe took from the corner Raskolnikovโs old, battered hat, which for some unknown reason, he called a Palmerstonโโor this jewel! Guess the price, Rodya, what do you suppose I paid for it, Nastasya!โ he said, turning to her, seeing that Raskolnikov did not speak.
โTwenty copecks, no more, I dare say,โ answered Nastasya.
โTwenty copecks, silly!โ he cried, offended. โWhy, nowadays you would cost more than thatโeighty copecks! And that only because it has been worn. And itโs bought on condition that whenโs itโs worn out, they will give you another next year. Yes, on my word! Well, now let us pass to the United States of America, as they called them at school. I assure you I am proud of these breeches,โ and he exhibited to Raskolnikov a pair of light, summer trousers of grey woollen material. โNo holes, no spots, and quite respectable, although a little worn; and a waistcoat to match, quite in the fashion. And its being worn really is an improvement, itโs softer, smoother…. You see, Rodya, to my thinking, the great thing for getting on in the world is always to keep to the seasons; if you donโt insist on having asparagus in January, you keep your money in your purse; and itโs the same with this purchase. Itโs summer now, so Iโve been buying summer thingsโwarmer materials will be wanted for autumn, so you will have to throw these away in any case… especially as they will be done for by then from their own lack of coherence if not your higher standard of luxury. Come, price them! What do you say? Two roubles twenty-five copecks! And remember the condition: if you wear these out, you will have another suit for nothing! They only do business on that system at Fedyaevโs; if youโve bought a thing once, you are satisfied for life, for you will never go there again of your own free will. Now for the boots. What do you say? You see that they are a bit worn, but theyโll last a couple of months, for itโs foreign work and foreign leather; the secretary of the English Embassy sold them last weekโhe had only worn them six days, but he was very short of cash. Priceโa rouble and a half. A bargain?โ
โBut perhaps they wonโt fit,โ observed Nastasya.
โNot fit? Just look!โ and he pulled out of his pocket Raskolnikovโs old, broken boot, stiffly coated with dry mud. โI did not go empty-handedโthey took the size from this monster. We all did our best. And as to your linen, your landlady has seen to that. Here, to begin with are three shirts, hempen but with a fashionable front…. Well now then, eighty copecks the cap, two roubles twenty-five copecks the suitโtogether three roubles five copecksโa rouble and a half for the bootsโfor, you see, they are very goodโand that makes four roubles fifty-five copecks; five roubles for the underclothesโthey were bought in the lotโwhich makes exactly nine roubles fifty-five copecks. Forty-five copecks change in coppers. Will you take it? And so, Rodya, you are set up with a complete new rig-out, for your overcoat will serve, and even has a style of its own. That comes from getting oneโs clothes from Sharmerโs! As for your socks and other things, I leave them to you; weโve twenty-five roubles left. And as for Pashenka and paying for your lodging, donโt you worry. I tell you sheโll trust you for anything. And now, brother, let me change your linen, for I daresay you will throw off your illness with your shirt.โ
โLet me be! I donโt want to!โ Raskolnikov waved him off. He had listened with disgust to Razumihinโs efforts to be playful about his purchases.
โCome, brother, donโt tell me Iโve been trudging around for nothing,โ Razumihin insisted. โNastasya, donโt be bashful, but help meโthatโs it,โ and in spite of Raskolnikovโs resistance he changed his linen. The latter sank back on the pillows and for a minute or two said nothing.
โIt will be long before I get rid of them,โ he thought. โWhat money was all that bought with?โ he asked at last, gazing at the wall.
โMoney? Why, your own, what the messenger brought from Vahrushin, your mother sent it. Have you forgotten that, too?โ
โI remember now,โ said Raskolnikov after a long, sullen silence. Razumihin looked at him, frowning and uneasy.
The door opened and a tall, stout man whose appearance seemed familiar to Raskolnikov came in.