“Are you so sure that she can’t?” Svidrigaïlov screwed up his eyes and smiled mockingly. “You are right, she doesn’t love me, but you can never be sure of what has passed between husband and wife or lover and mistress. There’s always a little corner which remains a secret to the world and is only known to those two. Will you answer for it that Avdotya Romanovna regarded me with aversion?”

“From some words you’ve dropped, I notice that you still have designs⁠—and of course evil ones⁠—on Dounia and mean to carry them out promptly.”

“What, have I dropped words like that?” Svidrigaïlov asked in naive dismay, taking not the slightest notice of the epithet bestowed on his designs.

“Why, you are dropping them even now. Why are you so frightened? What are you so afraid of now?”