1 And then you asked so piteously for fringe for your trousers.
Crime and Punishment By Fyodor DostoevskyContextHighlight In PART 2: CHAPTER III 2 He looked; in his right hand he held the shreds he had cut from his trousers, the sock, and the rags of the pocket.
3 Then as far as was possible, in the dim light in the kitchen, he looked over his overcoat, his trousers and his boots.
Crime and Punishment By Fyodor DostoevskyContextHighlight In PART 1: CHAPTER VII 4 I assure you I am proud of these breeches, and he exhibited to Raskolnikov a pair of light, summer trousers of grey woollen material.
Crime and Punishment By Fyodor DostoevskyContextHighlight In PART 2: CHAPTER III 5 He put them all in the different pockets of his overcoat, and the remaining pocket of his trousers, trying to conceal them as much as possible.
6 But there seemed to be nothing, no trace, except in one place, where some thick drops of congealed blood were clinging to the frayed edge of his trousers.
7 Without any delay, he began filling up the pockets of his trousers and overcoat without examining or undoing the parcels and cases; but he had not time to take many.
Crime and Punishment By Fyodor DostoevskyContextHighlight In PART 1: CHAPTER VII 8 He went to the stove, opened it and began rummaging in the ashes; the frayed edges of his trousers and the rags cut off his pocket were lying there just as he had thrown them.
Crime and Punishment By Fyodor DostoevskyContextHighlight In PART 2: CHAPTER III 9 He had on a light grey fashionable loose coat, light summer trousers, and everything about him loose, fashionable and spick and span; his linen was irreproachable, his watch-chain was massive.
10 He wore a charming summer jacket of a fawn shade, light thin trousers, a waistcoat of the same, new and fine linen, a cravat of the lightest cambric with pink stripes on it, and the best of it was, this all suited Pyotr Petrovitch.
11 "So my reason has not quite deserted me, so I still have some sense and memory, since I guessed it of myself," he thought triumphantly, with a deep sigh of relief; "it's simply the weakness of fever, a moment's delirium," and he tore the whole lining out of the left pocket of his trousers.