“He really has put it well, though,” Raskolnikov thought.

“Damn them? But the cross-examination again, tomorrow?” he said with bitterness. “Must I really enter into explanations with them? I feel vexed as it is, that I condescended to speak to Zametov yesterday in the restaurant.⁠ ⁠…”

“Damn it! I will go myself to Porfiry. I will squeeze it out of him, as one of the family: he must let me know the ins and outs of it all! And as for Zametov⁠ ⁠…”

“At last he sees through him!” thought Raskolnikov.

“Stay!” cried Razumihin, seizing him by the shoulder again. “Stay! you were wrong. I have thought it out. You are wrong! How was that a trap? You say that the question about the workmen was a trap. But if you had done that , could you have said you had seen them painting the flat⁠ ⁠… and the workmen? On the contrary, you would have seen nothing, even if you had seen it. Who would own it against himself?”