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There were actually real pillows under his head now, down pillows

in clean cases, he observed that, too, and took note of it.

"Pashenka must give us some raspberry jam to-day to make him some

raspberry tea," said Razumihin, going back to his chair and

attacking his soup and beer again.

"And where is she to get raspberries for you?" asked Nastasya,

balancing a saucer on her five outspread fingers and sipping tea

through a lump of sugar.