Fedka: Might I, sir, take advantage of your umbrella?
(Stavrogin stops. He and Fedka face each other under the umbrella.)
Stavrogin: Who are you?
Fedka: No one important. But you, you are Mr. Stavrogin, a noble lord!
Stavrogin: You are Fedka, the convict!
Fedka: I am not a convict any more. I was sent up for life, to be sure. But I found time dragging and changed my status.
Stavrogin: What are you doing here?
Fedka: Nothing. I need a passport. In Russia itís impossible to make a move without a passport. Fortunately, a man you know, Peter, promised me one. Meanwhile, I was lying in wait for you in the hopes that Your Grace would give me three rubles.
Stavrogin: Who gave you the order to lie in wait for me?
Fedka: No one, no one! Although Peter told me incidentally that perhaps with my talents I could do a service for Your Grace, in certain circumstances, by ridding you of people who are in your way. As he told me also that you would go over this bridge to see a certain party on the other side of the river, I have been waiting for you the past three nights. You see that I deserve my three rubles.
Stavrogin: Good. Listen. I like to be understood. You will receive nothing from me and I neither have nor shall have need of you. If I ever find you in my way again on this bridge or anywhere else, Iíll bind you and hand you over to the police.
Fedka: Yes, but I need you.
Stavrogin: Begone, or Iíll strike you.
Fedka: Please take into consideration, sir, that I am a poor defenseless orphan and that it is raining!
Stavrogin: I give you my word of honor that if I meet you again, Iíll bind you up.
Fedka: Iíll wait for you anyhow. You never know!
(He disappears. Stavrogin stares in his direction for a moment and leaves)