"What does he want with me?" he thought with a strange dread of the
unexpected which he tried to shake off lest it should fasten itself
upon his life for good and all. And the other, muttering cautiously with
downcast eyes, supposed that his comrade had seen the news of de P---'s
executioner--that was the expression he used--having been arrested the
night before last....

"I've been ill--shut up in my rooms," Razumov mumbled through his teeth.

The tall student, raising his shoulders, shoved his hands deep into his
pockets. He had a hairless, square, tallowy chin which trembled slightly
as he spoke, and his nose nipped bright red by the sharp air looked like
a false nose of painted cardboard between the sallow cheeks. His whole
appearance was stamped with the mark of cold and hunger. He stalked
deliberately at Razumov's elbow with his eyes on the ground.

"It's an official statement," he continued in the same cautious mutter.
"It may be a lie. But there was somebody arrested between midnight and
one in the morning on Tuesday. This is certain."

And talking rapidly under the cover of his downcast air, he told Razumov
that this was known through an inferior Government clerk employed at
the Central Secretariat. That man belonged to one of the revolutionary
circles. "The same, in fact, I am affiliated to," remarked the student.

They were crossing a wide quadrangle. An infinite distress possessed
Razumov, annihilated his energy, and before his eyes everything appeared
confused and as if evanescent. He dared not leave the fellow there. "He
may be affiliated to the police," was the thought that passed through