PART II
6. CHAPTER VI
(continued)
"You are a madman," said Zametov, and for some reason he too spoke in
a whisper, and moved away from Raskolnikov, whose eyes were
glittering. He had turned fearfully pale and his upper lip was
twitching and quivering. He bent down as close as possible to Zametov,
and his lips began to move without uttering a word. This lasted for
half a minute; he knew what he was doing, but could not restrain
himself. The terrible word trembled on his lips, like the latch on
that door; in another moment it will break out, in another moment he
will let it go, he will speak out.
"And what if it was I who murdered the old woman and Lizaveta?" he
said suddenly and--realised what he had done.
Zametov looked wildly at him and turned white as the tablecloth. His
face wore a contorted smile.
"But is it possible?" he brought out faintly. Raskolnikov looked
wrathfully at him.
"Own up that you believed it, yes, you did?"
"Not a bit of it, I believe it less than ever now," Zametov cried
hastily.
"I've caught my cock-sparrow! So you did believe it before, if now you
believe less than ever?"
"Not at all," cried Zametov, obviously embarrassed. "Have you been
frightening me so as to lead up to this?"
"You don't believe it then? What were you talking about behind my back
when I went out of the police-office? And why did the explosive
lieutenant question me after I fainted? Hey, there," he shouted to the
waiter, getting up and taking his cap, "how much?"
"Thirty copecks," the latter replied, running up.
"And there is twenty copecks for vodka. See what a lot of money!" he
held out his shaking hand to Zametov with notes in it. "Red notes and
blue, twenty-five roubles. Where did I get them? And where did my new
clothes come from? You know I had not a copeck. You've cross-examined
my landlady, I'll be bound. . . . Well, that's enough! /Assez cause!
Till we meet again!"
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