"Well, itwasyouwhomurderedhim, ifthat'sit," hewhisperedfuriously.
Ivansankbackonhischair, .
"?"
"Youstoodbeforemelasttimeandunderstooditall, andyouunderstanditnow."
"AllIunderstandisthatyouaremad."
"Aren'tyoutiredofit? Herewearefacetoface; what'stheuseofgoingonkeepingupafarcetoeachother? Areyoustilltryingtothrowitallonme, tomyface? Youmurderedhim; youaretherealmurderer, Iwasonlyyourinstrument, yourfaithfulservant, anditwasfollowingyourwordsIdidit."
"Didit? Why, didyoumurderhim?" Ivanturnedcold.
Somethingseemedtogivewayinhisbrain, ; probablythegenuinenessofIvan'shorrorstruckhim.
"Youdon'tmeantosayyoureallydidnotknow?" hefalteredmistrustfully, , andseemedunabletospeak.
Ach, Vanka'sgonetoPetersburg;
Iwon'twaittillhecomesback,
suddenlyechoedinhishead.
"Doyouknow, Iamafraidthatyouareadream, aphantomsittingbeforeme," hemuttered.
"There'snophantomhere, , thatthird, betweenus."
"Whoishe? Whoishere? Whatthirdperson?" Ivancriedinalarm, lookingabouthim, hiseyeshastilysearchingineverycorner.
"ThatthirdisGodHimself—'tlookforHim, youwon'tfindHim."
"It'saliethatyoukilledhim!" Ivancriedmadly."Youaremad, orteasingmeagain!"
Smerdyakov, asbefore, watchedhimcuriously, ; hestillfanciedthatIvankneweverythingandwastryingto "throwitallonhimtohisface."
"Waitaminute," hesaidatlastinaweakvoice, andsuddenlybringinguphisleftlegfromunderthetable, , andsuddenlyshudderedinaparoxysmofterror.
