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As for your socks and other things, I leave them to you; we've

twenty-five roubles left. And as for Pashenka and paying for your

lodging, don't you worry. I tell you she'll trust you for

anything. And now, brother, let me change your linen, for I

daresay you will throw off your illness with your shirt."

"Let me be! I don't want to!" Raskolnikov waved him off. He had

listened with disgust to Razumihin's efforts to be playful about

his purchases.

"Come, brother, don't tell me I've been trudging around for

nothing," Razumihin insisted. "Nastasya, don't be bashful, but

help me--that's it," and in spite of Raskolnikov's resistance he

changed his linen. The latter sank back on the pillows and for a

minute or two said nothing.

"It will be long before I get rid of them," he thought. "What

money was all that bought with?" he asked at last, gazing at the

wall.

"Money? Why, your own, what the messenger brought from Vahrushin,

your mother sent it. Have you forgotten that, too?"