Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 1, 2025
When he reached the landlady's kitchen, the door of which was open as usual, he glanced cautiously in to see whether, in Nastasya's absence, the landlady herself was there, or if not, whether the door to her own room was closed, so that she might not peep out when he went in for the axe.
"I won't come in, I haven't time," he hastened to say when the door was opened. "He sleeps like a top, soundly, quietly, and God grant he may sleep ten hours. Nastasya's with him; I told her not to leave till I came. Now I am fetching Zossimov, he will report to you and then you'd better turn in; I can see you are too tired to do anything...." And he ran off down the corridor.
Razumihin opened the door and stood for some time in the doorway as though hesitating, then he stepped softly into the room and went cautiously to the sofa. Raskolnikov heard Nastasya's whisper: "Don't disturb him! Let him sleep. He can have his dinner later." "Quite so," answered Razumihin. Both withdrew carefully and closed the door. Another half-hour passed.
He did not attempt to move, but stared obstinately at the flower. "But what about the painter?" Zossimov interrupted Nastasya's chatter with marked displeasure. She sighed and was silent. "Why, he was accused of the murder," Razumihin went on hotly. "Was there evidence against him then?" "Evidence, indeed! Evidence that was no evidence, and that's what we have to prove.
But though Avdotya Romanovna shared her anxiety, and was not of timorous disposition, she could not see the glowing light in his eyes without wonder and almost alarm. It was only the unbounded confidence inspired by Nastasya's account of her brother's queer friend, which prevented her from trying to run away from him, and to persuade her mother to do the same.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking