The front door was opened.
"Stavrogin--is America ours ?" said Verhovensky, seizing his hand for the last time.
"What for ?" said Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, gravely and sternly.
"You don't care, I knew that!" cried Verhovensky in an access of furious anger.

"You are lying, you miserable, profligate, perverted, little aristocrat! I don't believe you, you've the appetite of a wolf!...
Understand that you've cost me such a price, I can't give you up now! There's no one on earth but you! I invented you abroad; I invented it all, looking at you.

If I hadn't watched you from my corner, nothing of all this would have entered my head!" Stavrogin went up the steps without answering.
"Stavrogin!" Verhovensky called after him, "I give you a day...

two, then...

three, then; more than three I can't--and then you're to answer!".