“He’s been stagnating all his life as a district postmaster; gets a little pension. He is sixty-five — not worth talking about... But I am fond of him. Porfiry Petrovitch, the head of the Investigation Department here... But you know him.”
“Is he a relation of yours, too?”
“A very distant one. But why are you scowling? Because you quarrelled once, won’t you come then?”
“I don’t care a damn for him.”
“So much the better. Well, there will be some students, a teacher, a government clerk, a musician, an officer and Zametov.”
“Do tell me, please, what you or he” — Zossimov nodded at Raskolnikov —