“He is raving,” Razumihin cried tipsily, “or how would he dare! Tomorrow all this nonsense will be over⁠ ⁠… today he certainly did drive him away. That was so. And Luzhin got angry, too.⁠ ⁠… He made speeches here, wanted to show off his learning and he went out crestfallen.⁠ ⁠…”

“Then it’s true?” cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna.

“Goodbye till tomorrow, brother,” said Dounia compassionately⁠—“let us go, mother⁠ ⁠… Goodbye, Rodya.”

“Do you hear, sister,” he repeated after them, making a last effort, “I am not delirious; this marriage is⁠—an infamy. Let me act like a scoundrel, but you mustn’t⁠ ⁠… one is enough⁠ ⁠… and though I am a scoundrel, I wouldn’t own such a sister. It’s me or Luzhin! Go now.⁠ ⁠…”