Raskolnikov whispered like a frightened child caught in the act.
“No, it was you, you Rodion Romanovitch, and no one else,” Porfiry whispered sternly, with conviction.
They were both silent and the silence lasted strangely long, about ten minutes. Raskolnikov put his elbow on the table and passed his fingers through his hair. Porfiry Petrovitch sat quietly waiting. Suddenly Raskolnikov looked scornfully at Porfiry.
“You are at your old tricks again, Porfiry Petrovitch! Your old method again. I wonder you don’t get sick of it!”
“Oh, stop that, what does that matter now? It would be a different matter if there were witnesses present, but we are whispering alone. You see yourself that I have not come to chase and capture you like a hare. Whether you confess it or not is nothing to me now; for myself, I am convinced without it.”