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"Oh, the most ordinary," and suddenly Porfiry Petrovitch looked

with obvious irony at him, screwing up his eyes and, as it were,

winking at him. But perhaps it was Raskolnikov's fancy, for it

all lasted but a moment. There was certainly something of the

sort, Raskolnikov could have sworn he winked at him, goodness

knows why.

"He knows," flashed through his mind like lightning.

"Forgive my troubling you about such trifles," he went on, a

little disconcerted, "the things are only worth five roubles, but

I prize them particularly for the sake of those from whom they

came to me, and I must confess that I was alarmed when I

heard..."

"That's why you were so much struck when I mentioned to Zossimov

that Porfiry was inquiring for everyone who had pledges!"

Razumihin put in with obvious intention.

This was really unbearable. Raskolnikov could not help glancing

at him with a flash of vindictive anger in his black eyes, but

immediately recollected himself.