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〃You prick up your ears？〃
〃How do you mean… prick up my ears？〃
〃I'll explain that afterwards； but now； my boy； I declare to
you。。。 no； better 'I confess'。。。 No； that's not right either； 'I
make a deposition and you take it。' I depose that I was reading；
that I was looking and searching。。。。〃 he screwed up his eyes and
paused。 〃I was searching… and came here on purpose to do it… for
news of the murder of the old pawnbroker woman；〃 he articulated at
last； almost in a whisper； bringing his face exceedingly close to
the face of Zametov。 Zametov looked at him steadily； without moving or
drawing his face away。 What struck Zametov afterwards as the strangest
part of it all was that silence followed for exactly a minute； and
that they gazed at one another all the while。
〃What if you have been reading about it？〃 he cried at last；
perplexed and impatient。 〃That's no business of mine！ What of it？〃
〃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。
Raskolnikov's set and earnest face was suddenly transformed； and
he suddenly went off into the same nervous laugh as before； as
though utterly unable to restrain himself。 And in one flash he
recalled with extraordinary vividness of sensation a moment in the
recent past； that moment when he stood with the axe behind the door；
while the latch trembled and the men outside swore and shook it； and
he had a sudden desire to shout at them； to swear at them； to put
out his tongue at them； to mock them； to laugh； and laugh； and laugh！
〃You are either mad； or。。。〃 began Zametov； and he broke off； as
though stunned by the idea that had suddenly flashed into his mind。
〃Or？ Or what？ What？ Come； tell me！〃
〃Nothing；〃 said Zametov； getting angry； 〃it's all nonsense！〃
Both were silent。 After his sudden fit of laughter Raskolnikov
became suddenly thoughtful and melancholy。 He put his elbow on the
table and leaned his head on his hand。 He seemed to have completely
forgotten Zametov。 The silence lasted for some time。
〃Why don't you drink your tea？ It's getting cold；〃 said Zametov。
〃What！ Tea？ Oh； yes。。。〃 Raskolnikov sipped the glass； put a morsel
of bread in his mouth and； suddenly looking at Zametov； seemed to
remember everything and pulled himself together。 At the same moment
his face resumed its original mocking expression。 He went on
drinking tea。
〃There have been a great many of these crimes lately；〃 said Zametov。
〃Only the other day I read in the Moscow News that a whole gang of
false coiners had been caught in Moscow。 It was a regular society。
They used to forge tickets！〃
〃Oh； but it was a long time ago！ I read about it a month ago；〃
Raskolnikov answered calmly。 〃So you consider them criminals？〃 he
added smiling。
〃Of course they are criminals。〃
〃They？ They are children； simpletons； not criminals！ Why； half a
hundred people meeting for such an object… what an idea！ Three would
be too many； and then they want to have more faith in one other than
in themselves！ One has only to blab in his cups and it all
collapses。 Simpletons！ They engaged untrustworthy people to change the
notes… what a thing to trust to a casual stranger！ Well； let us
suppose that these simpletons succeed and each makes a million； and
what follows for the rest of their lives？ Each is dependent on the
others for the rest of his life！ Better hang oneself at once！ And they
did not know how to change the notes either； the man who changed the
notes took five thousand roubles； and his hands trembled。 He counted
the first four thousand； but did not count the fifth thousand… he
was in such a hurry to get the money into his pocket and run away。
Of course he roused suspicion。 And the whole thing came to a crash
through one fool！ Is it possible？〃
〃That his hands trembled？〃 observed Zametov； 〃yes； that's quite
possible。 That I feel quite sure is possible。 Sometimes one can't
stand things。〃
〃Can't stand that？〃
〃Why； could you stand it then？ No； I couldn't。 For the sake of a
hundred roubles to face such a terrible experience！ To go with false
notes into a bank where it's their business to spot that sort of
thing！ No； I should not have the face to do it。 Would you？〃
Raskolnikov had an intense desire again 〃to put his tongue out。〃
Shivers kept running down his spine。
〃I should do it quite differently；〃 Raskolnikov began。 〃This is
how I would change the notes： I'd count the first thousand three or
four times backwards and forwards； look at every note and then I'd set
to the second thousand； I'd count that half way through and then
hold some fifty rouble note to the light； then turn it； then hold it
to the light again… to see whether it was a good one？ 'I am afraid；' I
would say。 'A relation of mine lost twenty…five roubles the other
day through a false note；' and then I'd tell them the whole story。 And
after I began counting the third； 'no； excuse me；' I would say； 'I
fancy I made a mistake in the seventh hundred in that second thousand；
I am not sure。' And so I would give up the third thousand and go
back to the second and so on to the end。 And when I had finished；
I'd pick out one from the fifth and one from the second thousand and
take them again to the light and ask again 'change them； please；'
and put the clerk into such a stew that he would not know how to get
rid of me。 When I'd finished and had gone out； I'd come back； 'No；
excuse me；' and ask for some explanation。 That's how I'd do it。〃
〃Foo； what t