not had a bite for three days. Though as far as that goes, madmen eat too, but though you have not said a word to me yet … you are not mad! That I’d swear! Above all, you are not mad! So you may go to hell, all of you, for there’s some mystery, some secret about it, and I don’t intend to worry my brains over your secrets. So I’ve simply come to swear at you,” he finished, getting up, “to relieve my mind. And I know what to do now.”
“What do you mean to do now?”
“What business is it of yours what I mean to do?”
“You are going in for a drinking bout.”
“How … how did you know?”
“Why, it’s pretty plain.”
Razumihin paused for a minute.
“You always have been a very rational person and you’ve never been mad, never,” he observed suddenly with warmth. “You’re right: I shall drink. Goodbye!”
And he moved to go out.
“I was talking with my sister—the day before yesterday, I think it was—about you, Razumihin.”
“About me! But … where can you have seen her the day before yesterday?” Razumihin stopped short and even turned a little pale.
One could see that his heart was throbbing slowly and violently.
“She came here by herself, sat there and talked to me.”