coal　dust。　Here　would　be　the　place　to　throw　it；　he　thought。　Not　seeing
  any　one　in　the　yard；　he　slipped　in；　and　at　once　saw　near　the　gate　a
  sink；　such　as　is　often　put　in　yards　where　there　are　many　workmen　or
  cabdrivers；　and　on　the　hoarding　above　had　been　scribbled　in　chalk
  the　time…honoured　witticism；　〃Standing　here　strictly　forbidden。〃
  This　was　all　the　better；　for　there　would　be　nothing　suspicious　about
  his　going　in。　〃Here　I　could　throw　it　all　in　a　heap　and　get　away！〃
  Looking　round　once　more；　with　his　hand　already　in　his　pocket；　he
  noticed　against　the　outer　wall；　between　the　entrance　and　the　sink；　a
  big　unhewn　stone；　weighing　perhaps　sixty　pounds。　The　other　side　of　the
  wall　was　a　street。　He　could　hear　passers…by；　always　numerous　in　that
  part；　but　he　could　not　be　seen　from　the　entrance；　unless　some　one　came
  in　from　the　street；　which　might　well　happen　indeed；　so　there　was
  need　of　haste。
  He　bent　down　over　the　stone；　seized　the　top　of　it　firmly　in　both
  hands；　and　using　all　his　strength　turned　it　over。　Under　the　stone
  was　a　small　hollow　in　the　ground；　and　he　immediately　emptied　his
  pocket　into　it。　The　purse　lay　at　the　top；　and　yet　the　hollow　was　not
  filled　up。　Then　he　seized　the　stone　again　and　with　one　twist　turned　it
  back；　so　that　it　was　in　the　same　position　again；　though　it　stood　a
  very　little　higher。　But　he　scraped　the　earth　about　it　and　pressed　it
  at　the　edges　with　his　foot。　Nothing　could　be　noticed。
  Then　he　went　out；　and　turned　into　the　square。　Again　an　intense；
  almost　unbearable　joy　overwhelmed　him　for　an　instant；　as　it　had　in　the
  police　office。　〃I　have　buried　my　tracks！　And　who；　who　can　think　of
  looking　under　that　stone？　It　has　been　lying　there　most　likely　ever
  since　the　house　was　built；　and　will　lie　as　many　years　more。　And　if
  it　were　found；　who　would　think　of　me？　It　is　all　over！　No　clue！〃　And　he
  laughed。　Yes；　he　remembered　that　he　began　laughing　a　thin；　nervous
  noiseless　laugh；　and　went　on　laughing　all　the　time　he　was　crossing　the
  square。　But　when　he　reached　the　K___　Boulevard　where　two　days　before
  he　had　come　upon　that　girl；　his　laughter　suddenly　ceased。　Other
  ideas　crept　into　his　mind。　He　felt　all　at　once　that　it　would　be
  loathsome　to　pass　that　seat　on　which　after　the　girl　was　gone；　he　had
  sat　and　pondered；　and　that　it　would　be　hateful；　too；　to　meet　that
  whiskered　policeman　to　whom　he　had　given　the　twenty　copecks：　〃Damn
  him！〃
  He　walked；　looking　about　him　angrily　and　distractedly。　All　his　ideas
  now　seemed　to　be　circling　round　some　single　point；　and　he　felt　that
  there　really　was　such　a　point；　and　that　now；　now；　he　was　left　facing
  that　point…　and　for　the　first　time；　indeed；　during　the　last　two
  months。
  〃Damn　it　all！〃　he　thought　suddenly；　in　a　fit　of　ungovernable　fury。
  〃If　it　has　begun；　then　it　has　begun。　Hang　the　new　life！　Good　Lord；　how
  stupid　it　is！。。。　And　what　lies　I　told　to…day！　How　despicably　I
  fawned　upon　that　wretched　Ilya　Petrovitch！　But　that　is　all　folly！　What
  do　I　care　for　them　all；　and　my　fawning　upon　them！　It　is　not　that　at
  all！　It　is　not　that　at　all！〃
  Suddenly　he　stopped；　a　new　utterly　unexpected　and　exceedingly　simple
  question　perplexed　and　bitterly　confounded　him。
  〃If　it　all　has　really　been　done　deliberately　and　not　idiotically；　if
  I　really　had　a　certain　and　definite　object；　how　is　it　I　did　not　even
  glance　into　the　purse　and　don't　know　what　I　had　there；　for　which　I
  have　undergone　these　agonies；　and　have　deliberately　undertaken　this
  base；　filthy　degrading　business？　And　here　I　wanted　at　once　to　throw
  into　the　water　the　purse　together　with　all　the　things　which　I　had
  not　seen　either。。。　how's　that？〃
  Yes；　that　was　so；　that　was　all　so。　Yet　he　had　known　it　all　before；
  and　it　was　not　a　new　question　for　him；　even　when　it　was　decided　in　the
  night　without　hesitation　and　consideration；　as　though　so　it　must　be；
  as　though　it　could　not　possibly　be　otherwise。。。。　Yes；　he　had　known
  it　all；　and　understood　it　all；　it　surely　had　all　been　settled　even
  yesterday　at　the　moment　when　he　was　bending　over　the　box　and　pulling
  the　jewel…cases　out　of　it。。。。　Yes；　so　it　was。
  〃It　is　because　I　am　very　ill；〃　he　decided　grimly　at　last；　〃I　have
  been　worrying　and　fretting　myself；　and　I　don't　know　what　I　am
  doing。。。。　Yesterday　and　the　day　before　yesterday　and　all　this　time　I
  have　been　worrying　myself。。。。　I　shall　get　well　and　I　shall　not
  worry。。。。　But　what　if　I　don't　get　well　at　all？　Good　God；　how　sick　I　am
  of　it　all！〃
  He　walked　on　without　resting。　He　had　a　terrible　longing　for　some
  distraction；　but　he　did　not　know　what　to　do；　what　to　attempt。　A　new
  overwhelming　sensation　was　gaining　more　and　more　mastery　over　him
  every　moment；　this　was　an　immeasurable；　almost　physical；　repulsion　for
  everything　surrounding　him；　an　obstinate；　malignant　feeling　of　hatred。
  All　who　met　him　were　loathsome　to　him…　he　loathed　their　faces；　their
  movements；　their　gestures。　If　any　one　had　addressed　him；　he　felt
  that　he　might　have　spat　at　him　or　bitten　him。。。。
  He　stopped　suddenly；　on　coming　out　on　the　bank　of　the　Little　Neva；
  near　the　bridge　to　Vassilyevsky　Ostrov。　〃Why；　he　lives　here；　in　that
  house；〃　he　thought；　〃why；　I　have　not　come　to　Razumihin　of　my　own
  accord！　Here　it's　the　same　thing　over　again。。。。　Very　interesting　to
  know；　though；　have　I　come　on　purpose　or　have　I　simply　walked　here　by
  chance？　Never　mind；　I　said　the　day　before　yesterday　that　I　would　go
  and　see　him　the　day　after；　well；　and　so　I　will！　Besides　I　really
  cannot　go　further　now。〃
  He　went　up　to　Razumihin's　room　on　the　fifth　floor。
  The　latter　was　at　home　in　his　garret；　busily　writing　at　the
  moment；　and　he　opened　the　door　himself。　It　was　four　months　since
  they　had　seen　each　other。　Razumihin　was　sitting　in　a　ragged
  dressing…gown；　with　slippers　on　his　bare　feet；　unkempt；　unshaven　and
  unwashed。　His　face　showed　surprise。
  〃Is　it　you？〃　he　cried。　He　looked　his　comrade　up　and　down；　then　after
  a　brief　pause；　he　whistled。　〃As　hard　up　as　all　that！　Why；　brother；
  you've　cut　me　out！〃　he　added；　looking　at　Raskolnikov's　rags。　〃Come　sit
  down；　you　are　tired；　I'll　be　bound。〃
  And　when　he　had　sunk　down　on　the　American　leather　sofa；　which　was　in
  even　worse　condition　than　his　own；　Razumihin　saw　at　once　that　his
  visitor　was　ill。
  〃Why；　you　are　seriously　ill；　do　you　know　that？〃　He　began　feeling　his
  pulse。　Raskolnikov　pulled　away　his　hand。
  〃Never　mind；〃　he　said；　〃I　have　come　for　this；　I　have　no
  lessons。。。。　I　wanted。。。　but　I　don't　want　lessons。。。。〃
  〃But　I　say！　You　are　delirious；　you　know！〃　Razumihin　observed；
  watching　him　carefully。
  〃No；　I　am　not。〃
  Raskolnikov　got　up　from　the　sofa。　As　he　had　mounted　the　stairs　to
  Razumihin's；　he　had　not　realised　that　he　would　be　meeting　his　friend
  face　to　face。　Now；　in　a　flash；　he　knew；　that　what　he　was　least　of
  all　disposed　for　at　that　moment　was　to　be　face　to　face　with　any　one　in
  the　wide　world。　His　spleen　rose　within　him。　He　almost　choked　with　rage
  at　himself　as　soon　as　he　crossed　Razumihin's　threshold。
  〃Good…bye；〃　he　said　abruptly；　and　walked　to　the　door。
  〃Stop；　stop！　You　queer　fish。〃
  〃I　don't　want　to；〃　said　the　other；　again　pulling　away　his　hand。
  〃Then　why　the　devil　have　you　come？　Are　you　mad；　or　what？　Why；　this
  is。。。　almost　insulting！　I　won't　let　you　go　like　that。〃
  〃Well；　then；　I　came　to　you　because　I　know　no　one　but　you　who　could
  help。。。　to　begin。。。　because　you　are　kinder　than　any　one…　clever；　I
  mean；　and　can　judge。。。　and　now　I　s