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Updated: May 25, 2025
"The same old woman," Raskolnikov went on in the same whisper, not heeding Zametov's explanation, "about whom you were talking in the police-office, you remember, when I fainted. Well, do you understand now?" "What do you mean? Understand... what?" Zametov brought out, almost alarmed.
Yes, we've lost Zametov. He's not been here since yesterday... he quarrelled with everyone on leaving... in the rudest way. He is a feather-headed youngster, that's all; one might have expected something from him, but there, you know what they are, our brilliant young men. He wanted to go in for some examination, but it's only to talk and boast about it, it will go no further than that.
"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?"
"But confess now, my dear fellow, you're awfully anxious to know what I am reading about?" "I am not in the least. Mayn't I ask a question? Why do you keep on...?" "Listen, you are a man of culture and education?" "I was in the sixth class at the gymnasium," said Zametov with some dignity. "Sixth class! Ah, my cock-sparrow! With your parting and your rings you are a gentleman of fortune.
That is why you weighed their words... h'm... certainly, I agree, Porfiry's tone was rather strange, and still more that wretch Zametov!... You are right, there was something about him but why? Why?" "He has changed his mind since last night." "Quite the contrary!
We arranged that to excite you, so we purposely spread rumours, that he might discuss the case with you, and Razumihin is not a man to restrain his indignation. Mr. Zametov was tremendously struck by your anger and your open daring. Think of blurting out in a restaurant 'I killed her. It was too daring, too reckless. I thought so myself, if he is guilty he will be a formidable opponent.
Raskolnikov fancied that Zametov was one of them, but he could not be sure at that distance. "What if it is?" he thought. "Will you have vodka?" asked the waiter. "Give me some tea and bring me the papers, the old ones for the last five days, and I'll give you something." "Yes, sir, here's to-day's. No vodka?" The old newspapers and the tea were brought.
"I was awfully sick of them yesterday." Raskolnikov addressed Porfiry suddenly with a smile of insolent defiance, "I ran away from them to take lodgings where they wouldn't find me, and took a lot of money with me. Mr. Zametov there saw it. I say, Mr. Zametov, was I sensible or delirious yesterday; settle our dispute."
Do you suppose you could catch him? You've a tough job! A great point for you is whether a man is spending money or not. If he had no money and suddenly begins spending, he must be the man. So that any child can mislead you." "The fact is they always do that, though," answered Zametov. "A man will commit a clever murder at the risk of his life and then at once he goes drinking in a tavern.
He looked up, it was the head clerk Zametov, looking just the same, with the rings on his fingers and the watch-chain, with the curly, black hair, parted and pomaded, with the smart waistcoat, rather shabby coat and doubtful linen. He was in a good humour, at least he was smiling very gaily and good-humouredly. His dark face was rather flushed from the champagne he had drunk.
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