ehind my
back when I went out of the police-office? And why did the explosive
lieutenant question me after I fainted? Hey, there," he shouted to the
waiter, getting up and taking his cap, "how much?"

"Thirty copecks," the latter replied, running up.

"And there is twenty copecks for vodka. See what a lot of money!" he
held out his shaking hand to Zametov with notes in it. "Red notes and
blue, twenty-five roubles. Where did I get them? And where did my new
clothes come from? You know I had not a copeck. You've cross-examined my
landlady, I'll be bound.... Well, that's enough! _Assez cause!_ Till we
meet again!"

He went out, trembling all over from a sort of wild hysterical
sensation, in which there was an element of insufferable rapture. Yet he
was gloomy and terribly tired. His face was twisted as after a fit.
His fatigue increased rapidly. Any shock, any irritating sensation
stimulated and revived his energies at once, but his strength failed as
quickly when the stimulus was removed.

Zametov, left alone, sat for a long time in the same place, plunged in
thought. Raskolnikov had unwittingly worked a revolution in his brain on
a certain point and had made up his mind for him conclusively.

"Ilya Petrovitch is a blockhead," he decided.

Raskolnikov had hardly opened the door of the restaurant when he
stumbled against Razumihin on the steps. They did not see each other
till they almost knocked against each other. For a moment they stood
looking each other up and down. Razumihin was greatly astounded, then
anger, real anger gleamed fiercely in his eyes.

"So here you are!" he shouted at the top of his voice--"you ran away
from your bed! And here I've been looking for you under the sofa! We
went up to the garret. I almost beat Nastasya on your account. And here
he is after all. Rodya! What is the meaning of it? Tell me the whole
truth! Confess! Do you hear?"

"It means that I'm sick to death of you all and I want to be alone,"
Raskolnikov answered calmly.

"Alone? When you are not able to walk, when your face is as white as a
sheet and you are gasping for breath! Idiot!... What have you been doing
in the Palais de Cristal? Own up at once!"

"Let me go!" said Raskolnikov and tried to pass him. This was too much
for Razumihin; he gripped him firmly by the shoulder.

"Let you go? You dare tell me to let you go? Do you know what I'll do
with you directly? I'll pick you up, tie you up in a bundle, carry you
home