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著者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"Don't be irritated." Zossimov forced himself to laugh. "Assume
that you are my first patient--well--we fellows just beginning to
practise love our first patients as if they were our children,
and some almost fall in love with them. And, of course, I am not
rich in patients."
"I say nothing about him," added Raskolnikov, pointing to
Razumihin, "though he has had nothing from me either but insult
and trouble."
"What nonsense he is talking! Why, you are in a sentimental mood
to-day, are you?" shouted Razumihin.
If he had had more penetration he would have seen that there was
no trace of sentimentality in him, but something indeed quite the
opposite. But Avdotya Romanovna noticed it. She was intently and
uneasily watching her brother.
"As for you, mother, I don't dare to speak," he went on, as
though repeating a lesson learned by heart. "It is only to-day
that I have been able to realise a little how distressed you must
have been here yesterday, waiting for me to come back."

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