“You are talking and speechifying away, but tell me, would you kill the old woman yourself?”
“Of course not! I was only arguing the justice of it.... It’s nothing to do with me....”
“But I think, if you would not do it yourself, there’s no justice about it.... Let us have another game.”
Raskolnikov was violently agitated. Of course, it was all ordinary youthful talk and thought, such as he had often heard before in different forms and on different themes. But why had he happened to hear such a discussion and such ideas at the very moment when his own brain was just conceiving... the very same ideas? And why, just at the moment when he had brought away the embryo of his idea from the old woman had he dropped at once upon a conversation about her? This coincidence always seemed strange to him.