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Автор: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Sonia made no reply; the door opened and she slipped in. She felt
for some reason ashamed and uneasy.
*****
On the way to Porfiry's, Razumihin was obviously excited.
"That's capital, brother," he repeated several times, "and I am
glad! I am glad!"
"What are you glad about?" Raskolnikov thought to himself.
"I didn't know that you pledged things at the old woman's, too.
And... was it long ago? I mean, was it long since you were
there?"
"What a simple-hearted fool he is!"
"When was it?" Raskolnikov stopped still to recollect. "Two or
three days before her death it must have been. But I am not going
to redeem the things now," he put in with a sort of hurried and
conspicuous solicitude about the things. "I've not more than a
silver rouble left... after last night's accursed delirium!"
He laid special emphasis on the delirium.

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