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But here was his room. Nothing and no one in it. No one had

peeped in. Even Nastasya had not touched it. But heavens! how

could he have left all those things in the hole?

He rushed to the corner, slipped his hand under the paper, pulled

the things out and lined his pockets with them. There were eight

articles in all: two little boxes with ear-rings or something of

the sort, he hardly looked to see; then four small leather cases.

There was a chain, too, merely wrapped in newspaper and something

else in newspaper, that looked like a decoration.... He put them

all in the different pockets of his overcoat, and the remaining

pocket of his trousers, trying to conceal them as much as

possible. He took the purse, too. Then he went out of his room,

leaving the door open. He walked quickly and resolutely, and

though he felt shattered, he had his senses about him. He was

afraid of pursuit, he was afraid that in another half-hour,

another quarter of an hour perhaps, instructions would be issued

for his pursuit, and so at all costs, he must hide all traces

before then. He must clear everything up while he still had some

strength, some reasoning power left him....