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When they reached the door they heard voices in the room.

"What is it?" cried Razumihin. Raskolnikov was the first to open

the door; he flung it wide and stood still in the doorway,

dumbfoundered.

His mother and sister were sitting on his sofa and had been

waiting an hour and a half for him. Why had he never expected,

never thought of them, though the news that they had started,

were on their way and would arrive immediately, had been repeated

to him only that day? They had spent that hour and a half plying

Nastasya with questions. She was standing before them and had

told them everything by now. They were beside themselves with

alarm when they heard of his "running away" to-day, ill and, as

they understood from her story, delirious! "Good Heavens, what

had become of him?" Both had been weeping, both had been in

anguish for that hour and a half.