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"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?"