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"I see, I see; and how do we feel now, eh?" said Zossimov to

Raskolnikov, watching him carefully and, sitting down at the foot

of the sofa, he settled himself as comfortably as he could.

"He is still depressed," Razumihin went on. "We've just changed

his linen and he almost cried."

"That's very natural; you might have put it off if he did not

wish it.... His pulse is first-rate. Is your head still aching,

eh?"

"I am well, I am perfectly well!" Raskolnikov declared positively

and irritably. He raised himself on the sofa and looked at them

with glittering eyes, but sank back on to the pillow at once and

turned to the wall. Zossimov watched him intently.

"Very good.... Going on all right," he said lazily. "Has he eaten

anything?"

They told him, and asked what he might have.