was utterly astonished, but suddenly rage, real rage, flashed menacingly in his eyes.
‘So this is where you are!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Running from his sick bed! And I was looking for him under the couch! We even checked the loft! I almost gave Nastasya a thrashing thanks to you . . . And look where he is! Rodya! What’s the meaning of this? Tell me the whole truth! Confess! Do you hear?’
‘The meaning is that I’m sick to death of all of you and I want to be alone,’ Raskolnikov calmly replied.
‘Alone? When you still can’t walk, when you’re still white as a sheet and you’re gasping for breath! Idiot! What were you up to in the “Crystal Palace”? Confess immediately!’
‘Let me go!’ said Raskolnikov, trying to walk past. This was the last straw and Razumikhin grabbed him firmly by the shoulder.
‘Let me go? What cheek! Know what I’ll do with you now? I’ll gather you up, tie a knot around you, carry you off home under my arm and lock you up!’
‘Listen, Razumikhin,’ Raskolnikov began quietly, with a semblance of perfect calm, ‘why can’t you see that I don’t want your good deeds? And why this urge to bestow your kindness on people who . . . spit in reply? For whom this is more than they can bear? I mean, why did you have to look me up when I fell ill? What if I were only too happy to die? Didn’t I make it clear enough to you today that you’re tormenting me, that I’m . . . sick and tired of you? Why this urge to torment people? It doesn’t help my recovery at all, I assure you. In fact, it’s a constant irritation. Didn’t Zosimov leave earlier so as not to irritate me? Now you should do the same, for the love of God! Anyway, what right do you have to keep me here by force? Can’t you see that I’ve got all my wits about me? What do I need to say to you – please, tell me – for you to stop pestering me and bestowing your goodness on me? Call me ungrateful, call me scum, but for the love of God just leave me alone, all of you! Just leave me!’
He’d begun calmly enough, relishing the prospect of pouring out so much venom, but he ended in a breathless frenzy, as earlier with Luzhin.
Razumikhin stood and thought for a minute, and let go of his hand.
‘Clear off, damn you!’ he said quietly and almost pensively. ‘Wait!’ he roared all of a sudden when Raskolnikov was already walking off, ‘and listen to me. I declare that you are all, to a man, blabberers and blusterers! The first prick of pain and you’ll be fussing over it like a hen over an egg! Even here you can’t help stealing from foreign authors. There’s not a spark of independent life in you! Spermaceti33 is what you’re made of, with whey instead of blood! I don’t believe a single one of you! Your first priority, whatever the situation, is to avoid seeming human! Wait there, I say!’ he shouted with redoubled fury, noticing that Raskolnikov was on the verge of leaving again. ‘Hear me out! As you know, today’s my house-warming, the guests might have already arrived, and I left my uncle – I was just over there now – to greet them. Now if you weren’t such a fool, a second-hand fool, a triple fool, a walking translation – you see, Rodya, you’re a bright spark, I’ll give you that, but you’re a fool! – now if you weren’t such a fool, you’d come over to mine for the evening instead of wearing out your boots for no reason. You might as well, seeing as you can’t stay in bed! I’ll wheel in the landlord’s lovely soft armchair for you . . . A nice brew, a bit of company . . . If you’re not up to it, I’ll make up the couch – at least you can lie amongst us . . . Zosimov will be there too. So, are you coming?’
‘No.’
‘Rubbish!’ Razumikhin cried impatiently. ‘How can you know? You can’t answer for yourself! And you don’t understand the first thing about this anyway .