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tempest around him； if he had to remain standing on a square yard of
space all his life； a thousand years； eternity； it were better to live
so than to die at once！ Only to live； to live and live！ Life； whatever
it may be！。。。 How true it is！ Good God； how true！ Man is a vile
creature！。。。 And vile is he who calls him vile for that；〃 he added a
moment later。
He went into another street。 〃Bah； the Palais de Crystal！
Razumihin was just talking of the Palais de Crystal。 But what on earth
was it I wanted？ Yes； the newspapers。。。。 Zossimov said he'd read it in
the papers。 Have you the papers？〃 he asked； going into a very spacious
and positively clean restaurant； consisting of several rooms； which
were however rather empty。 Two or three people were drinking tea；
and in a room further away were sitting four men drinking champagne。
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。 Raskolnikov sat down
and began to look through them。
〃Oh； damn。。。 these are the items of intelligence。 An accident on a
staircase； spontaneous combustion of a shopkeeper from alcohol； a fire
in Peski。。。 a fire in the Petersburg quarter。。。 another fire in the
Petersburg quarter。。。 and another fire in the Petersburg quarter。。。
Ah； here it is！〃 He found at last what he was seeking and began to
read it。 The lines danced before his eyes； but he read it all and
began eagerly seeking later additions in the following numbers。 His
hands shook with nervous impatience as he turned the sheets。
Suddenly some one sat down beside him at his table。 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。
〃What； you here？〃 he began in surprise； speaking as though he'd
known him all his life。 〃Why； Razumihin told me only yesterday you
were unconscious。 How strange！ And do you know I've been to see you？〃
Raskolnikov knew he would come up to him。 He laid aside the papers
and turned to Zametov。 There was a smile on his lips； and a new
shade of irritable impatience was apparent in that smile。
〃I know you have；〃 he answered。 〃I've heard it。 You looked for my
sock。。。。 And you know Razumihin has lost his heart to you？ He says
you've been with him to Luise Ivanovna's； you know the woman you tried
to befriend； for whom you winked to the Explosive Lieutenant and he
would not understand。 Do you remember？ How could he fail to
understand… it was quite clear； wasn't it？〃
〃What a hot head he is！〃
〃The explosive one？〃
〃No； your friend Razumihin。〃
〃You must have a jolly life； Mr。 Zametov； entrance free to the
most agreeable places。 Who's been pouring champagne into you just
now？〃
〃We've just been。。。 having a drink together。。。。 You talk about
pouring it into me！〃
〃By way of a fee！ You profit by everything！〃 Raskolnikov laughed；
〃it's all right； my dear boy；〃 he added； slapping Zametov on the
shoulder。 〃I am not speaking from temper； but in a friendly way； for
sport； as that workman of yours said when he was scuffling with
Dmitri； in the case of the old woman。。。。〃
〃How do you know about it？〃
〃Perhaps I know more about it than you do。〃
〃How strange you are。。。。 I am sure you are still very unwell。 You
oughtn't to have come out。〃
〃Oh； do I seem strange to you？〃
〃Yes。 What are you doing； reading the papers？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃There's a lot about the fires。〃
〃No； I am not reading about the fires。〃 Here he looked
mysteriously at Zametov； his lips were twisted again in a mocking
smile。 〃No； I am not reading about the fires；〃 he went on； winking
at Zametov。 〃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 cocksparrow！ With your parting and your
rings… you are a gentleman of fortune。 Foo； what a charming boy！〃 Here
Raskolnikov broke into a nervous laugh right in Zametov's face。 The
latter drew back； more amazed than offended。
〃Foo； how strange you are！〃 Zametov repeated very seriously。 〃I
can't help thinking you are still delirious。〃
〃I am delirious？ You are fibbing； my cocksparrow！ So I am strange？
You find me curious； do you？〃
〃Yes； curious。〃
〃Shall I tell you what I was reading about； what I was looking
for？ See what a lot of papers I've made them bring me。 Suspicious；
eh？〃
〃Well； what is it？〃
〃You prick up your ears？〃
〃How do you