egg shells, and the Sunday bells floating in from somewhere.... The
images followed one another, whirling like a hurricane. Some of them
he liked and tried to clutch at, but they faded and all the while
there was an oppression within him, but it was not overwhelming,
sometimes it was even pleasant.... The slight shivering still
persisted, but that too was an almost pleasant sensation.
He heard the hurried footsteps of Razumihin; he closed his eyes
and pretended to be asleep. Razumihin opened the door and stood for
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