honour of presenting it to you. She trusts your word now. Here, take it, you see I have torn it.”
Razumihin put the note on the table. Raskolnikov looked at him and turned to the wall without uttering a word. Even Razumihin felt a twinge.
“I see, brother,” he said a moment later, “that I have been playing the fool again. I thought I should amuse you with my chatter, and I believe I have only made you cross.”
“Was it you I did not recognise when I was delirious?” Raskolnikov asked, after a moment’s pause without turning his head.
“Yes, and you flew into a rage about it, especially when I brought Zametov one day.”
“Zametov? The head clerk? What for?”