time ‘Smerdyakov!’ I can’t get Smerdyakov out of my head. In fact, I, too, thought of Smerdyakov just now; but only for a second. Almost at once I thought, ‘No, it’s not Smerdyakov.’ It’s not his doing, gentlemen.”
“In that case is there anybody else you suspect?” Nikolay Parfenovitch inquired cautiously.
“I don’t know anyone it could be, whether it’s the hand of Heaven or Satan, but … not Smerdyakov,” Mitya jerked out with decision.
“But what makes you affirm so confidently and emphatically that it’s not he?”
“From my conviction—my impression. Because Smerdyakov is a man of the most abject character and a coward. He’s not a coward, he’s the epitome of all the cowardice in the world walking on two legs. He has the heart of a chicken. When he talked to me, he was always trembling for fear I should kill him,