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"He-he! You are quick-witted. You notice everything! You've

really a playful mind! And you always fasten on the comic side...

he-he! They say that was the marked characteristic of Gogol,

among the writers."

"Yes, of Gogol."

"Yes, of Gogol.... I shall look forward to meeting you."

"So shall I."

Raskolnikov walked straight home. He was so muddled and

bewildered that on getting home he sat for a quarter of an hour

on the sofa, trying to collect his thoughts. He did not attempt

to think about Nikolay; he was stupefied; he felt that his

confession was something inexplicable, amazing--something beyond

his understanding. But Nikolay's confession was an actual fact.

The consequences of this fact were clear to him at once, its

falsehood could not fail to be discovered, and then they would be

after him again. Till then, at least, he was free and must do

something for himself, for the danger was imminent.