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“
What
’
s
the
matter
with
you
?
”
cried
Razumihin
.
“
So
that
’
s
how
it
is
?
”
Luzhin
turned
pale
and
bit
his
lip
.
“
Let
me
tell
you
,
sir
,
”
he
began
deliberately
,
doing
his
utmost
to
restrain
himself
but
breathing
hard
,
“
at
the
first
moment
I
saw
you
you
were
ill
-
disposed
to
me
,
but
I
remained
here
on
purpose
to
find
out
more
.
I
could
forgive
a
great
deal
in
a
sick
man
and
a
connection
,
but
you
.
.
.
never
after
this
.
.
.
”
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“
I
am
not
ill
,
”
cried
Raskolnikov
.
“
So
much
the
worse
.
.
.
”
“
Go
to
hell
!
”
But
Luzhin
was
already
leaving
without
finishing
his
speech
,
squeezing
between
the
table
and
the
chair
;
Razumihin
got
up
this
time
to
let
him
pass
.
Without
glancing
at
anyone
,
and
not
even
nodding
to
Zossimov
,
who
had
for
some
time
been
making
signs
to
him
to
let
the
sick
man
alone
,
he
went
out
,
lifting
his
hat
to
the
level
of
his
shoulders
to
avoid
crushing
it
as
he
stooped
to
go
out
of
the
door
.
And
even
the
curve
of
his
spine
was
expressive
of
the
horrible
insult
he
had
received
.
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“
How
could
you
—
how
could
you
!
”
Razumihin
said
,
shaking
his
head
in
perplexity
.
“
Let
me
alone
—
let
me
alone
all
of
you
!
”
Raskolnikov
cried
in
a
frenzy
.
“
Will
you
ever
leave
off
tormenting
me
?
I
am
not
afraid
of
you
!
I
am
not
afraid
of
anyone
,
anyone
now
!
Get
away
from
me
!
I
want
to
be
alone
,
alone
,
alone
!
”
“
Come
along
,
”
said
Zossimov
,
nodding
to
Razumihin
.