Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 29, 2025
"To be sure, his papa shall look at him," said Lizaveta Petrovna, getting up and bringing something red, and queer, and wriggling. "Wait a minute, we'll make him tidy first," and Lizaveta Petrovna laid the red wobbling thing on the bed, began untrussing and trussing up the baby, lifting it up and turning it over with one finger and powdering it with something.
She wiped her tear-stained eyes, and raised them towards Hermann. He was sitting near the window, with his arms crossed, and with a fierce frown upon his forehead. In this attitude he bore a striking resemblance to the portrait of Napoleon. This resemblance struck Lizaveta even. "How shall I get you out of the house?" said she at last. "I thought of conducting you down the secret staircase."
"Our convictions on that score are widely different, Lizaveta Mikhailovna," said Lavretsky, somewhat coldly. "We shall not be able to understand one another." Liza grew pale. Her whole body shuddered slightly, but she was not silenced. "You ought to forgive," she said quietly, "if you wish also to be forgiven." "Forgive!" cried Lavretsky; you ought first to know her for whom you plead.
"Well, that request won't be long in coming. But I haven't looked at you till now are you well?" "Quite well." "Shurochka!" suddenly exclaimed the old lady. "Go and tell Lizaveta Mikhailovna that is no ask her Is she down-stairs?" "Yes." "Well, yes. Ask her where she has put my book She will know all about it." "Very good."
"What's the matter with you, my good sir?" his chief asks him. "What is it?" Vassy a waves his hand and sits down. "Don't ask me, your Excellency," he says with a sigh. "What I have suffered in these two days, what I have suffered! Liza has been ill!" "Good heavens," cried his chief in alarm. "Lizaveta Pavlovna, what is wrong with her?"
The moment Raskolnikov caught sight of her, he was overcome by a strange sensation as it were of intense astonishment, though there was nothing astonishing about this meeting. "You could make up your mind for yourself, Lizaveta Ivanovna," the huckster was saying aloud. "Come round to-morrow about seven. They will be here too."
And it was so sad to see.... And she was not grieved for the collars, but for my refusing, I saw that. Ah, if only I could bring it all back, change it, take back those words! Ah, if I... but it's nothing to you!" "Did you know Lizaveta, the pedlar?" "Yes.... Did you know her?" Sonia asked with some surprise.
On returning home she ran to her room, and drew the letter out of her glove: it was not sealed. Lizaveta read it. The letter contained a declaration of love; it was tender, respectful, and copied word for word from a German novel. But Lizaveta did not know anything of the German language, and she was quite delighted. For all that, the letter caused her to feel exceedingly uneasy.
"Why, do you know who killed her?" she asked, chilled with horror, looking wildly at him. "I know and will tell... you, only you. I have chosen you out. I'm not coming to you to ask forgiveness, but simply to tell you. I chose you out long ago to hear this, when your father talked of you and when Lizaveta was alive, I thought of it. Good-bye, don't shake hands. To-morrow!" He went out.
She was still standing in the same place, three steps from the table. "It was brought me," she answered, as it were unwillingly, not looking at him. "Who brought it?" "Lizaveta, I asked her for it." "Lizaveta! strange!" he thought. Everything about Sonia seemed to him stranger and more wonderful every moment. He carried the book to the candle and began to turn over the pages.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking