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He
seemed
to
want
to
say
something
more
,
but
could
not
speak
out
.
“
You
must
forgive
me
,
Porfiry
Petrovitch
,
for
what
has
just
passed
.
.
.
I
lost
my
temper
,
”
began
Raskolnikov
,
who
had
so
far
regained
his
courage
that
he
felt
irresistibly
inclined
to
display
his
coolness
.
“
Don
’
t
mention
it
,
don
’
t
mention
it
,
”
Porfiry
replied
,
almost
gleefully
.
“
I
myself
,
too
.
.
.
I
have
a
wicked
temper
,
I
admit
it
!
But
we
shall
meet
again
.
If
it
’
s
God
’
s
will
,
we
may
see
a
great
deal
of
one
another
.
”
“
And
will
get
to
know
each
other
through
and
through
?
”
added
Raskolnikov
.
“
Yes
;
know
each
other
through
and
through
,
”
assented
Porfiry
Petrovitch
,
and
he
screwed
up
his
eyes
,
looking
earnestly
at
Raskolnikov
.
“
Now
you
’
re
going
to
a
birthday
party
?
”
“
To
a
funeral
.
”
“
Of
course
,
the
funeral
!
Take
care
of
yourself
,
and
get
well
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
to
wish
you
,
”
said
Raskolnikov
,
who
had
begun
to
descend
the
stairs
,
but
looked
back
again
.
“
I
should
like
to
wish
you
success
,
but
your
office
is
such
a
comical
one
.
”
“
Why
comical
?
”
Porfiry
Petrovitch
had
turned
to
go
,
but
he
seemed
to
prick
up
his
ears
at
this
.
