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"What?" Raskolnikov seemed to wake up. "Oh... I got spattered

with blood helping to carry him to his lodging. By the way,

mamma, I did an unpardonable thing yesterday. I was literally out

of my mind. I gave away all the money you sent me... to his wife

for the funeral. She's a widow now, in consumption, a poor

creature... three little children, starving... nothing in the

house... there's a daughter, too... perhaps you'd have given it

yourself if you'd seen them. But I had no right to do it I admit,

especially as I knew how you needed the money yourself. To help

others one must have the right to do it, or else _Crevez, chiens,

si vous n'etes pas contents_." He laughed, "That's right, isn't

it, Dounia?"

"No, it's not," answered Dounia firmly.