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المؤلف: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"Because I am not offended at the rudeness of your questions? Is
that it? But why take offence? As you asked, so I answered," he
replied, with a surprising expression of simplicity. "You know,
there's hardly anything I take interest in," he went on, as it
were dreamily, "especially now, I've nothing to do.... You are
quite at liberty to imagine though that I am making up to you
with a motive, particularly as I told you I want to see your
sister about something. But I'll confess frankly, I am very much
bored. The last three days especially, so I am delighted to see
you.... Don't be angry, Rodion Romanovitch, but you seem to be
somehow awfully strange yourself. Say what you like, there's
something wrong with you, and now, too... not this very minute, I
mean, but now, generally.... Well, well, I won't, I won't, don't
scowl! I am not such a bear, you know, as you think."
Raskolnikov looked gloomily at him.

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