Zametov looked at him steadily, without moving or drawing his face away.

What struck Zametov afterwards as the strangest part of it all was that silence followed for exactly a minute, and that they gazed at one another all the while.
"What if you have been reading about it ?" he cried at last, perplexed and impatient.

"That's no business of mine! What of it ?" "The same old woman," Raskolnikov went on in the same whisper, not heeding Zametov's explanation, "about whom you were talking in the police-office, you remember, when I fainted.

Well, do you understand now ?" "What do you mean?
Understand...

what ?" Zametov brought out, almost alarmed.
Raskolnikov's set and earnest face was suddenly transformed, and he suddenly went off into the same nervous laugh as before, as though utterly unable to restrain himself.