Sonia clasped her hands.

“Could it, could it all be true? Good God, what a truth! Who could believe it? And how could you give away your last farthing and yet rob and murder! Ah,” she cried suddenly, “that money you gave Katerina Ivanovna... that money... Can that money...”

“No, Sonia,” he broke in hurriedly, “that money was not it. Don’t worry yourself! That money my mother sent me and it came when I was ill, the day I gave it to you... Razumihin saw it... he received it for me... That money was mine — my own.”

Sonia listened to him in bewilderment and did her utmost to comprehend.

“And that money... I don’t even know really whether there was any money,”