I gave three copecks of my own to the postman for it.

Will you pay me back ?" "Then bring it to me, for God's sake, bring it," cried Raskolnikov greatly excited--"good God!" A minute later the letter was brought him.

That was it: from his mother, from the province of R----.

He turned pale when he took it.

It was a long while since he had received a letter, but another feeling also suddenly stabbed his heart.
"Nastasya, leave me alone, for goodness' sake; here are your three copecks, but for goodness' sake, make haste and go!" The letter was quivering in his hand; he did not want to open it in her presence; he wanted to be left _alone_ with this letter.