“What do you mean by ‘the man?’ What are you talking about?” cried Raskolnikov.

“What do I mean? I really don’t know.⁠ ⁠…” Svidrigaïlov muttered ingenuously, as though he, too, were puzzled.

For a minute they were silent. They stared in each other’s faces.

“That’s all nonsense!” Raskolnikov shouted with vexation. “What does she say when she comes to you?”