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"There is some truth in your observation," the latter replied.

"In that sense we are certainly all not infrequently like madmen,

but with the slight difference that the deranged are somewhat

madder, for we must draw a line. A normal man, it is true, hardly

exists. Among dozens--perhaps hundreds of thousands--hardly one

is to be met with."

At the word "madman," carelessly dropped by Zossimov in his

chatter on his favourite subject, everyone frowned.

Raskolnikov sat seeming not to pay attention, plunged in thought

with a strange smile on his pale lips. He was still meditating on

something.

"Well, what about the man who was run over? I interrupted you!"

Razumihin cried hastily.