"All must be discovered?" He rose a little and undid the bolt, and fell back again on his bed. There stood the porter and Nastasia. The servant looked strangely at Raskolnikoff, while he fixed a despairing glance upon the porter.
"Here is a notice for you from the office," said the latter.
"What office?"
"The police office."
"What for?"
"I don't know. You are summoned there, go." The porter looked anxiously at the lodger, and turned to leave. Raskolnikoff made no observation, and held the paper unopened in his hand.
"There, stay where you are," said Nastasia, seeing him fall back on the couch. "If you are ill, do not go. What is that in your hand?"
He looked down; in his right hand were clutched the pieces of frayed cloth, his boot, and the lining of his pocket. He had evidently fallen asleep with them as they were; indeed he recollected how, thinking deeply about them, he had dozed away.
"The idea of taking a lot of rags to bed and hugging them to you like a treasure!" laughed the servant in her sickly manner.
In a second he hid all under his coat and looked at her attentively. Although little was capable of passing in his mind, he felt she would not talk thus to a man under arrest for a crime. But then, the police?