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looking at the papers? "
"Yes. "
"There's plenty about the fires. "
"No, I'm not reading about this fires. " Here your dog looked mysteriously at Zametov; his lips were twisted again within a mocking smile. "No, I'm not reading about this fires, " he took, winking at Zametov. "But confess now, my dear many other, you're awfully anxious to find out what I am looking at about? "
"I am not inside least. Mayn't I require a question? Why don't you keep on...? "
"Listen, you might be a man of traditions and education? "
"I what food was in the sixth class at the gymnasium, " said Zametov having some dignity.
"Sixth category! Ah, my cock-sparrow! Using your parting and your rings-- you might be a gentleman of bundle. Foo! what a alluring boy! " Here Raskolnikov broke in to a nervous laugh right around Zametov's face. The recent drew back, more stunned than offended.
"Foo! how strange you might be! " Zametov repeated pretty seriously. "I can't help thinking you might be still delirious. "
"I here's delirious? You are fibbing, the cock-sparrow! So I here's strange? You find us curious, do you? "
"Yes, interested. "
"Shall I say what I was looking at about, what I was looking for? See what a massive amount papers I've made these bring me. Suspicious, correct? "
"Well, what do you find it? "
"You prick way up your ears? "
"How don't you mean--'prick up my ears'? "
"I'll describe that afterwards, but these days, my boy, I declare to you personally... no, better 'I confess'... No, that's not right either; 'I make a deposition also , you take it. ' I depose we was reading, that I had been looking and searching.... " your dog screwed up his little brown eyes and paused. "I was searching--and came here on purpose to do it--for news on the murder of the aged pawnbroker woman, " he articulated eventually, almost in a sound, bringing his face exceedingly towards the face of Zametov. Zametov viewed him steadily, without going or drawing his experience away. What struck Zametov afterwards because strangest part of all this was that silence followed for exactly a minute, and that they gazed at one another even while.
"What if you are actually reading about it? " he cried eventually, perplexed and impatient. "That's no business of mine! Just what exactly of it? "
"The exact old woman, " Raskolnikov took in the same sound, not heeding Zametov's justification, "about whom you were talking inside police-office, you remember, once i fainted. Well, do you already know now? "
"What don't you mean? Understand... what? " Zametov introduced out, almost alarmed.
Raskolnikov's fixed and earnest face has been suddenly transformed, and he suddenly went off on the same nervous laugh as before, as though utterly can not restrain himself. And a single flash he recalled having extraordinary vividness of sensation a second in the recent previous, that moment when he stood using the axe behind the front door, while the latch trembled plus the men outside swore and shook it, and he had a sudden need to shout at them, in order to swear at them, that can put out his tongue on them, to mock these, to laugh, and have a good laugh, and laugh!
"You are usually either mad, or... " started out Zametov, and he split off, as though stunned by idea that had all of a sudden flashed into his brain.
"Or? Or what? Just what exactly? Come, tell me! "
"Nothing, " mentioned Zametov, getting angry, "it's most nonsense! "
Both had been silent. After his immediate fit of laughter Raskolnikov started to be suddenly thoughtful and melancholy. He put his elbow within the table and leaned his directly his hand. He did actually have completely forgotten Zametov. The silence lasted for some time.
"Why don't you sip your tea? It's having cold, " said Zametov.
"What! Green tea? Oh, yes.... " Raskolnikov sipped this glass, put a morsel associated with bread in his jaws and, suddenly looking on Zametov, seemed to bear in mind everything and pulled himself together. At the exact moment his face summarized its original mocking appearance. He went on drinking tea.
"There have been a lot of of these crimes nowadays, " said Zametov. "Only individual I read in the /Moscow News/ a whole gang of false coiners had been caught in Moscow. It had been a regular society. They familiar with forge tickets! "
"Oh, but it was a long time ago! I read to sort it out a month ago, " Raskolnikov solved calmly. "So you contemplate them criminals? " your dog added, smiling.
"Of course they're criminals. "
"They? They're children, simpletons, not criminals! Why, half a hundred folks meeting for such an object--what a preview! Three would be a great number of, and then they want to have more faith in one other than in themselves! You have only to blab in his cups and yes it all collapses. Simpletons! They engaged untrustworthy folks to change the notes-- what thing to trust to a casual stranger! Well, allow us to suppose that these simpletons have great results and each makes a million, and what follows for your rest of their life? Each is dependent within the others for the rest of his life! Better hang oneself at once! And they did not realize how to change the notes either; the man who altered the notes took several thousand roubles, and his or her hands trembled. He counted the initial four thousand, but did not matter the fifth thousand--he was in such a hurry to get your money into his pocket and try to escape. Of course he roused mistrust. And the whole thing came to a crash through one hoodwink! Is it possible? "
"That his or her hands trembled? " discovered Zametov, "yes, that's really possible. That, I look quite sure, is possible. Sometimes one can't sta.