After a long while, Raskolnikov wakes from his recent oblivion, sitting up with a start as the memory of what he has done washes over him. Violently shivering, he discovers he had not even latched his door when he came home and now tries to discern if his clothes bear any trace of the murder. His efforts are ineffectual, so he takes off his clothes and finds only a few drops of congealed blood “clinging to the frayed edge of his trousers.” He cuts them off and then remembers the purse and the trinkets still in his pockets.
Raskolnikov empties his pockets and hides the loot in...
(The entire page is 704 words.)
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