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Yazar: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Ten minutes passed. It was still light, but beginning to get
dusk. There was complete stillness in the room. Not a sound came
from the stairs. Only a big fly buzzed and fluttered against the
window pane. It was unbearable at last. Raskolnikov suddenly got
up and sat on the sofa.
"Come, tell me what you want."
"I knew you were not asleep, but only pretending," the stranger
answered oddly, laughing calmly. "Arkady Ivanovitch Svidrigailov,
allow me to introduce myself...."
PART IV
CHAPTER I
"Can this be still a dream?" Raskolnikov thought once more.
He looked carefully and suspiciously at the unexpected visitor.
"Svidrigailov! What nonsense! It can't be!" he said at last aloud
in bewilderment.
His visitor did not seem at all surprised at this exclamation.

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