sister, but a sort of bitter, hidden determination to bear another

hour or two of inevitable torture. He saw later that almost every word

of the following conversation seemed to touch on some sore place and

irritate it. But at the same time he marvelled at the power of

controlling himself and hiding his feelings in a patient who the

previous day had, like a monomaniac, fallen into a frenzy at the

"Yes, I see myself now that I am almost well," said Raskolnikov,

giving his mother and sister a kiss of welcome which made Pulcheria