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"I shall not forget it, you may depend How he is trembling! Don't be uneasy, my friend I shall not forget your advice. Take a little stroll, only do not go beyond certain limits. Well, au revoir! May God send you good thoughts!" Porphyrius withdrew, avoiding Raskolnikoff's eye.
But do not put yourself out of the way, there is time, plenty of time," murmured Petrovitch, who, without apparent design, kept going to and fro, now approaching the window, now his bureau, to return a moment afterwards to the table. At times he would avoid Raskolnikoff's suspicious look, at times again he drew up sharp whilst looking his visitor straight in the face.
This, at all events, was Raskolnikoff's hope. "I see you don't believe, you think I am jesting," continued Porphyrius, more and more at his ease, without ceasing to indulge in his little laugh, whilst continuing his perambulation about the room. "You may be right. God has given me a face which only arouses comical thoughts in others. I'm a buffoon. But excuse an old man's cackle.
Excuse me," said the man, frightened at the question and Raskolnikoff's strange appearance, and hastily withdrawing to the other side of the street. Raskolnikoff went on, and came to the place in the Hay-market where he had met the trader and his wife and Elizabeth. No one was there at the moment.
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