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