“I must be a great friend of his ⁠ ⁠… since I know,” Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. “He⁠ ⁠… did not mean to kill that Lizaveta⁠ ⁠… he⁠ ⁠… killed her accidentally.⁠ ⁠… He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there⁠ ⁠… and then Lizaveta came in⁠ ⁠… he killed her too.”

Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another.

“You can’t guess, then?” he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple.

“N-no⁠ ⁠…” whispered Sonia.

“Take a good look.”