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- Федор Достоевский
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- Преступление и наказание
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- Стр. 274/453
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Sonia
looked
at
him
inquiringly
.
“
They
are
left
on
your
hands
,
you
see
.
They
were
all
on
your
hands
before
,
though
.
.
.
.
And
your
father
came
to
you
to
beg
for
drink
.
Well
,
how
will
it
be
now
?
”
“
I
don
’
t
know
,
”
Sonia
articulated
mournfully
.
“
Will
they
stay
there
?
”
“
I
don
’
t
know
.
.
.
.
They
are
in
debt
for
the
lodging
,
but
the
landlady
,
I
hear
,
said
to
-
day
that
she
wanted
to
get
rid
of
them
,
and
Katerina
Ivanovna
says
that
she
won
’
t
stay
another
minute
.
”
“
How
is
it
she
is
so
bold
?
She
relies
upon
you
?
”
“
Oh
,
no
,
don
’
t
talk
like
that
.
.
.
.
We
are
one
,
we
live
like
one
.
”
Sonia
was
agitated
again
and
even
angry
,
as
though
a
canary
or
some
other
little
bird
were
to
be
angry
.
“
And
what
could
she
do
?
What
,
what
could
she
do
?
”
she
persisted
,
getting
hot
and
excited
.
“
And
how
she
cried
to
-
day
!
Her
mind
is
unhinged
,
haven
’
t
you
noticed
it
?
At
one
minute
she
is
worrying
like
a
child
that
everything
should
be
right
to
-
morrow
,
the
lunch
and
all
that
.
.
.
.
Then
she
is
wringing
her
hands
,
spitting
blood
,
weeping
,
and
all
at
once
she
will
begin
knocking
her
head
against
the
wall
,
in
despair
.
Then
she
will
be
comforted
again
.
She
builds
all
her
hopes
on
you
;
she
says
that
you
will
help
her
now
and
that
she
will
borrow
a
little
money
somewhere
and
go
to
her
native
town
with
me
and
set
up
a
boarding
school
for
the
daughters
of
gentlemen
and
take
me
to
superintend
it
,
and
we
will
begin
a
new
splendid
life
.
And
she
kisses
and
hugs
me
,
comforts
me
,
and
you
know
she
has
such
faith
,
such
faith
in
her
fancies
!
One
can
’
t
contradict
her
.
And
all
the
day
long
she
has
been
washing
,
cleaning
,
mending
.
She
dragged
the
wash
tub
into
the
room
with
her
feeble
hands
and
sank
on
the
bed
,
gasping
for
breath
.
We
went
this
morning
to
the
shops
to
buy
shoes
for
Polenka
and
Lida
for
theirs
are
quite
worn
out
.
Only
the
money
we
’
d
reckoned
wasn
’
t
enough
,
not
nearly
enough
.
And
she
picked
out
such
dear
little
boots
,
for
she
has
taste
,
you
don
’
t
know
.
And
there
in
the
shop
she
burst
out
crying
before
the
shopmen
because
she
hadn
’
t
enough
.
.
.
.
Ah
,
it
was
sad
to
see
her
.
.
.
.
”
“
Well
,
after
that
I
can
understand
your
living
like
this
,
”
Raskolnikov
said
with
a
bitter
smile
.
