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"Briefly," he said loudly and imperiously, rising to his feet and

in so doing pushing Porfiry back a little, "briefly, I want to

know, do you acknowledge me perfectly free from suspicion or not?

Tell me, Porfiry Petrovitch, tell me once for all and make

haste!"

"What a business I'm having with you!" cried Porfiry with a

perfectly good-humoured, sly and composed face. "And why do you

want to know, why do you want to know so much, since they haven't

begun to worry you? Why, you are like a child asking for matches!

And why are you so uneasy? Why do you force yourself upon us, eh?

He-he-he!"

"I repeat," Raskolnikov cried furiously, "that I can't put up

with it!"

"With what? Uncertainty?" interrupted Porfiry.

"Don't jeer at me! I won't have it! I tell you I won't have it. I

can't and I won't, do you hear, do you hear?" he shouted,

bringing his fist down on the table again.