everything by now. They were beside themselves with alarm when they

heard of his "running away" to-day, ill and, as they understood from

her story, delirious! "Good Heavens, what had become of him?" Both had

been weeping, both had been in anguish for that hour and a half.

A cry of joy, of ecstasy, greeted Raskolnikov's entrance. Both

rushed to him. But he stood like one dead; a sudden intolerable

sensation struck him like a thunderbolt. He did not lift his arms to

embrace them, he could not. His mother and sister clasped him in their