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in tatters。 He began stuffing all the things into the hole under the
paper： 〃They're in！ All out of sight； and the purse too！〃 he thought
gleefully； getting up and gazing blankly at the hole which bulged
out more than ever。 Suddenly he shuddered all over with horror； 〃My
God！〃 he whispered in despair： 〃what's the matter with me？ Is that
hidden？ Is that the way to hide things？〃
He had not reckoned on having trinkets to hide。 He had only
thought of money； and so had not prepared a hiding…place。
〃But now； now； what am I glad of？〃 he thought； 〃Is that hiding
things？ My reason's deserting me… simply！〃
He sat down on the sofa in exhaustion and was at once shaken by
another unbearable fit of shivering。 Mechanically he drew from a chair
beside him his old student's winter coat； which was still warm
though almost in rags； covered himself up with it and once more sank
into drowsiness and delirium。 He lost consciousness。
Not more than five minutes had passed when he jumped up a second
time； and at once pounced in a frenzy on his clothes again。
〃How could I go to sleep again with nothing done？ Yes； yes； I have
not taken the loop off the armhole！ I forgot it； forgot a thing like
that！ Such a piece of evidence！〃
He pulled off the noose； hurriedly cut it to pieces and threw the
bits among his linen under the pillow。
〃Pieces of torn linen couldn't rouse suspicion； whatever happened； I
think not； I think not； any way！〃 he repeated； standing in the
middle of the room； and with painful concentration he fell to gazing
about him again； at the floor and everywhere； trying to make sure he
had not forgotten anything。 The conviction； that all his faculties；
even memory； and the simplest power of reflection were failing him；
began to be an insufferable torture。
〃Surely it isn't beginning already！ Surely it isn't my punishment
coming upon me？ It is！〃
The frayed rags he had cut off his trousers were actually lying on
the floor in the middle of the room； where any one coming in would see
them！
〃What is the matter with me！〃 he cried again； like one distraught。
Then a strange idea entered his head； that； perhaps； all his clothes
were covered with blood； that； perhaps； there were a great many
stains； but that he did not see them； did not notice them because
his perceptions were failing； were going to pieces。。。 his reason was
clouded。。。。 Suddenly he remembered that there had been blood on the
purse too。 〃Ah！ Then there must be blood on the pocket too； for I
put the wet purse in my pocket！〃
In a flash he had turned the pocket inside out and； yes！… there were
traces； stains on the lining of the pocket！
〃So my reason has not quite deserted me； so I still have some
sense and memory； since I guessed it of myself；〃 he thought
triumphantly； with a deep sigh of relief： 〃It's simply the weakness of
fever； a moment's delirium；〃 and he tore the whole lining out of the
left pocket of his trousers。 At that instant the sunlight fell on
his left boot； on the sock which poked out from the boot； he fancied
there were traces！ He flung off his boots： 〃traces indeed！ The tip
of the sock was soaked with blood〃； he must have unwarily stepped into
that pool。。。。 〃But what am I to do with this now？ Where am I to put
the sock and rags and pocket？〃
He gathered them all up in his hands and stood in the middle of
the room。
〃In the stove？ But they would ransack the stove first of all。 Burn
them？ But what can I burn them with？ There are no matches even。 No；
better go out and throw it all away somewhere。 Yes； better throw it
away；〃 he repeated； sitting down on the sofa again； 〃and at once； this
minute； without lingering。。。〃
But his head sank on the pillow instead。 Again the unbearable icy
shivering came over him； again he drew his coat over him。
And for a long while； for some hours； he was haunted by the
impulse to 〃go off somewhere at once； this moment； and fling it all
away； so that it may be out of sight and done with； at once； at once！〃
Several times he tried to rise from the sofa but could not。
He was thoroughly waked up at last by a violent knocking at his
door。
〃Open； do； are you dead or alive？ He keeps sleeping here！〃 shouted
Nastasya； banging with her fist on the door。 〃For whole days
together he's snoring here like a dog！ A dog he is too。 Open I tell
you。 It's past ten。〃
〃Maybe he's not at home；〃 said a man's voice。
〃Ha！ that's the porter's voice。。。。 What does he want？〃
He jumped up and sat on the sofa。 The beating of his heart was a
positive pain。
〃Then who can have latched the door？〃 retorted Nastasya。
〃He's taken to bolting himself in！ As if he were worth stealing！
Open； you stupid； wake up！〃
〃What do they want？ Why the porter？ All's discovered。 Resist or
open？ Come what may！。。。〃
He half rose； stooped forward and unlatched the door。
His room was so small that he could undo the latch without leaving
the bed。 Yes； the porter and Nastasya were standing there。
Nastasya stared at him in a strange way。 He glanced with a defiant
and desperate air at the porter； who without a word held out a grey
folded paper sealed with bottle…wax。
〃A notice from the office；〃 he announced； as he gave him the paper。
〃From what office？〃
〃A summons to the police office； of course。 You know which office。〃
〃To the police？。。。 What for？。。。〃
〃How can I tell？ You're sent for； so you go。〃
The man look