onvulsions! You almost convinced him again of the truth of all that hideous nonsense, and then you suddenly—put out your tongue at him: ‘There now, what do you make of it?’ It was perfect! He is crushed, annihilated now! It was masterly, by Jove, it’s what they deserve! Ah, that I wasn’t there! He was hoping to see you awfully. Porfiry, too, wants to make your acquaintance …”

“Ah! … he too … but why did they put me down as mad?”

“Oh, not mad. I must have said too much, brother. … What struck him, you see, was that only that subject seemed to interest you; now it’s clear why it did interest you; knowing all the circumstances … and how that irritated you and worked in with your illness … I am a little drunk, brother, only, confound him, he has some idea of his own … I tell you, he’s mad on mental diseases. But don’t you mind him …”

For half a minute both were silent.

“Listen, Razumihin,” began Raskolnikov, “I want to tell you plainly: I’ve just been at a death-bed, a clerk who died … I gave them all my money … and besides I’ve just been kissed by someone who, if I had killed anyone, would just the same … in fact I saw someone else there … with a flame-coloured feather … but I am talking nonsense; I am very weak, support me … we shall be at the stairs directly …”

“What’s the matter? What’s the matter with you?” Razumihin asked anxiously.

“I am a little giddy, but that’s not the point, I am so sad, so sad … like a woman. Look, what’-->>

本章未完，点击下一页继续阅读