the charge of robbery rests, ‘otherwise no one would have known of the robbery, nor perhaps even of the money.’ But is the mere fact that that scrap of paper was lying on the floor a proof that there was money in it, and that that money had been stolen? Yet, it will be objected, Smerdyakov had seen the money in the envelope. But when, when had he seen it for the last time, I ask you that? I talked to Smerdyakov, and he told me that he had seen the notes two days before the catastrophe. Then why not imagine that old Fyodor Pavlovitch, locked up alone in impatient and hysterical expectation of the object of his adoration, may have whiled away the time by breaking open the envelope and taking out the notes. > ‘What’s the use of the envelope?’ he may have asked himself. ‘She won’t believe the notes are there, but when I show her the thirty rainbow-colored notes in one roll, it will make more impression, you may be sure, it will make her mouth water.’ And so he tears open the envelope, takes out the money, and flings the envelope on the floor, conscious of being the owner and untroubled by any fears of leaving
“Listen, gentlemen, could anything be more likely than this theory and such an action? Why is it out of the question?
But if anything of the sort could have taken place, the charge of robbery falls to the ground; if there was no money, there was no theft of it.
If the envelope on the floor may be taken as evidence that there had been money in it, why may I not maintain the opposite, that the envelope was on the floor because the money had been taken from it by its owner?
“But I shall be asked what became of the money if Fyodor Pavlovitch took it out