-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Федор Достоевский
-
- Преступление и наказание
-
- Стр. 181/453
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
I
don
’
t
know
how
to
thank
him
either
,
”
Raskolnikov
went
on
,
suddenly
frowning
and
looking
down
.
“
Setting
aside
the
question
of
payment
—
forgive
me
for
referring
to
it
(
he
turned
to
Zossimov
)
—
I
really
don
’
t
know
what
I
have
done
to
deserve
such
special
attention
from
you
!
I
simply
don
’
t
understand
it
.
.
.
and
.
.
.
and
.
.
.
it
weighs
upon
me
,
indeed
,
because
I
don
’
t
understand
it
.
I
tell
you
so
candidly
.
”
“
Don
’
t
be
irritated
.
”
Zossimov
forced
himself
to
laugh
.
“
Assume
that
you
are
my
first
patient
—
well
—
we
fellows
just
beginning
to
practise
love
our
first
patients
as
if
they
were
our
children
,
and
some
almost
fall
in
love
with
them
.
And
,
of
course
,
I
am
not
rich
in
patients
.
”
“
I
say
nothing
about
him
,
”
added
Raskolnikov
,
pointing
to
Razumihin
,
“
though
he
has
had
nothing
from
me
either
but
insult
and
trouble
.
”
“
What
nonsense
he
is
talking
!
Why
,
you
are
in
a
sentimental
mood
to
-
day
,
are
you
?
”
shouted
Razumihin
.
If
he
had
had
more
penetration
he
would
have
seen
that
there
was
no
trace
of
sentimentality
in
him
,
but
something
indeed
quite
the
opposite
.
But
Avdotya
Romanovna
noticed
it
.
She
was
intently
and
uneasily
watching
her
brother
.
“
As
for
you
,
mother
,
I
don
’
t
dare
to
speak
,
”
he
went
on
,
as
though
repeating
a
lesson
learned
by
heart
.
“
It
is
only
to
-
day
that
I
have
been
able
to
realise
a
little
how
distressed
you
must
have
been
here
yesterday
,
waiting
for
me
to
come
back
.
”
When
he
had
said
this
,
he
suddenly
held
out
his
hand
to
his
sister
,
smiling
without
a
word
.
But
in
this
smile
there
was
a
flash
of
real
unfeigned
feeling
.
Dounia
caught
it
at
once
,
and
warmly
pressed
his
hand
,
overjoyed
and
thankful
.
It
was
the
first
time
he
had
addressed
her
since
their
dispute
the
previous
day
.
The
mother
’
s
face
lighted
up
with
ecstatic
happiness
at
the
sight
of
this
conclusive
unspoken
reconciliation
.
“
Yes
,
that
is
what
I
love
him
for
,
”
Razumihin
,
exaggerating
it
all
,
muttered
to
himself
,
with
a
vigorous
turn
in
his
chair
.
“
He
has
these
movements
.
”
“
And
how
well
he
does
it
all
,
”
the
mother
was
thinking
to
herself
.
“
What
generous
impulses
he
has
,
and
how
simply
,
how
delicately
he
put
an
end
to
all
the
misunderstanding
with
his
sister
—
simply
by
holding
out
his
hand
at
the
right
minute
and
looking
at
her
like
that
.
.
.
.
And
what
fine
eyes
he
has
,
and
how
fine
his
whole
face
is
!
.
.
.
He
is
even
better
looking
than
Dounia
.
.
.
.
But
,
good
heavens
,
what
a
suit
—
how
terribly
he
’
s
dressed
!
.
.
.
Vasya
,
the
messenger
boy
in
Afanasy
Ivanitch
’
s
shop
,
is
better
dressed
!
I
could
rush
at
him
and
hug
him
.
.
.
weep
over
him
—
but
I
am
afraid
.
.
.
.
Oh
,
dear
,
he
’
s
so
strange
!
He
’
s
talking
kindly
,
but
I
’
m
afraid
!
Why
,
what
am
I
afraid
of
?
.
.
.
”
