oman and Elizabeth?" he asked suddenly, and
then--came to himself.

Zametoff turned quite pale; then his face changed to a smile. "Can it
be so?" he muttered to himself.

Raskolnikoff eyed him savagely. "Speak out. What do you think? Yes? Is
it so?"

"Of course not. I believe it now less than ever," replied Zametoff
hastily.

"Caught at last! caught, my fine fellow! What people believe less than
ever, they must have believed once, eh?"

"Not at all. You frightened me into the supposition," said Zametoff,
visibly confused.

"So you do not think this? Then why those questions in the office? Why
did the lieutenant question me after my swoon? Waiter," he cried,
seizing his cap, "here, how much?"

"Thirty kopecks, sir," replied the man.

"There you are, and twenty for yourself. Look, what a lot of money!"
turning to Zametoff and thrusting forth his shaking hand filled with
the twenty-five rubles, red and blue notes. "Whence comes all this?
Where did I obtain these new clothes from? You know I had none. You
have asked the landlady, I suppose? Well, no matter!--Enough! Adieu,
most affectionately."

He went out, shaking from some savage hysterical emotion, a mixture of
delight, gloom, and weariness. His face was drawn as if he had just
recovered from a fit; and, as his agitation of mind increased, so did
his weakness.

Meanwhile, Zametoff remained in the restaurant where Raskolnikoff had
left him, deeply buried in thought, considering the different points
Raskolnikoff had placed before him.

His heart was empty and depressed, and he strove again to drive off
thought. No feeling of anguish came, neither was there any trace of
that fierce energy which moved him when he left the house to "put an
end to it all."

"What will be the end of it? The result lies in my own will. What kind
of end? Ah, we are all alike, and accept the bit of ground for our
feet and live. Must this be the end? Shall I say the word or not? Oh,
how weary I feel! Oh, to lie down or sit anywhere! How foolish it is
to strive against my illness! Bah! What thoughts run through my
brain!" Thus he meditated as he went drowsily along the banks of the
canal, until, turning to the right and then to the left, he reached
the office building. He stopped short, however, and, turning down a
lane, went on past two other streets, with no fixed purpose, simply,
no doubt, to give himself a few moments longer for reflection. He went
on, his eyes fixed on the gr