“Me⁠—afraid? Afraid of you? You have rather to be afraid of me, cher ami . But what nonsense.⁠ ⁠… I’ve drunk too much though, I see that. I was almost saying too much again. Damn the wine! Hi! there, water!”

He snatched up the champagne bottle and flung it without ceremony out of the window. Philip brought the water.

“That’s all nonsense!” said Svidrigaïlov, wetting a towel and putting it to his head. “But I can answer you in one word and annihilate all your suspicions. Do you know that I am going to get married?”

“You told me so before.”