-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Федор Достоевский
-
- Преступление и наказание
-
- Стр. 54/453
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
In
one
instant
he
had
whisked
in
at
the
open
door
and
hidden
behind
the
wall
and
only
in
the
nick
of
time
;
they
had
already
reached
the
landing
.
Then
they
turned
and
went
on
up
to
the
fourth
floor
,
talking
loudly
.
He
waited
,
went
out
on
tiptoe
and
ran
down
the
stairs
.
No
one
was
on
the
stairs
,
nor
in
the
gateway
.
He
passed
quickly
through
the
gateway
and
turned
to
the
left
in
the
street
.
He
knew
,
he
knew
perfectly
well
that
at
that
moment
they
were
at
the
flat
,
that
they
were
greatly
astonished
at
finding
it
unlocked
,
as
the
door
had
just
been
fastened
,
that
by
now
they
were
looking
at
the
bodies
,
that
before
another
minute
had
passed
they
would
guess
and
completely
realise
that
the
murderer
had
just
been
there
,
and
had
succeeded
in
hiding
somewhere
,
slipping
by
them
and
escaping
.
They
would
guess
most
likely
that
he
had
been
in
the
empty
flat
,
while
they
were
going
upstairs
.
And
meanwhile
he
dared
not
quicken
his
pace
much
,
though
the
next
turning
was
still
nearly
a
hundred
yards
away
.
“
Should
he
slip
through
some
gateway
and
wait
somewhere
in
an
unknown
street
?
No
,
hopeless
!
Should
he
fling
away
the
axe
?
Should
he
take
a
cab
?
Hopeless
,
hopeless
!
”
At
last
he
reached
the
turning
.
He
turned
down
it
more
dead
than
alive
.
Here
he
was
half
way
to
safety
,
and
he
understood
it
;
it
was
less
risky
because
there
was
a
great
crowd
of
people
,
and
he
was
lost
in
it
like
a
grain
of
sand
.
But
all
he
had
suffered
had
so
weakened
him
that
he
could
scarcely
move
.
Perspiration
ran
down
him
in
drops
,
his
neck
was
all
wet
.
“
My
word
,
he
has
been
going
it
!
”
someone
shouted
at
him
when
he
came
out
on
the
canal
bank
.
He
was
only
dimly
conscious
of
himself
now
,
and
the
farther
he
went
the
worse
it
was
.
He
remembered
however
,
that
on
coming
out
on
to
the
canal
bank
,
he
was
alarmed
at
finding
few
people
there
and
so
being
more
conspicuous
,
and
he
had
thought
of
turning
back
.
Though
he
was
almost
falling
from
fatigue
,
he
went
a
long
way
round
so
as
to
get
home
from
quite
a
different
direction
.
He
was
not
fully
conscious
when
he
passed
through
the
gateway
of
his
house
!
He
was
already
on
the
staircase
before
he
recollected
the
axe
.
And
yet
he
had
a
very
grave
problem
before
him
,
to
put
it
back
and
to
escape
observation
as
far
as
possible
in
doing
so
.
He
was
of
course
incapable
of
reflecting
that
it
might
perhaps
be
far
better
not
to
restore
the
axe
at
all
,
but
to
drop
it
later
on
in
somebody
’
s
yard
.
But
it
all
happened
fortunately
,
the
door
of
the
porter
’
s
room
was
closed
but
not
locked
,
so
that
it
seemed
most
likely
that
the
porter
was
at
home
.
But
he
had
so
completely
lost
all
power
of
reflection
that
he
walked
straight
to
the
door
and
opened
it
.
If
the
porter
had
asked
him
,
“
What
do
you
want
?
”
he
would
perhaps
have
simply
handed
him
the
axe
.
But
again
the
porter
was
not
at
home
,
and
he
succeeded
in
putting
the
axe
back
under
the
bench
,
and
even
covering
it
with
the
chunk
of
wood
as
before
.
He
met
no
one
,
not
a
soul
,
afterwards
on
the
way
to
his
room
;
the
landlady
’
s
door
was
shut
When
he
was
in
his
room
,
he
flung
himself
on
the
sofa
just
as
he
was
—
he
did
not
sleep
,
but
sank
into
blank
forgetfulness
.
If
anyone
had
come
into
his
room
then
,
he
would
have
jumped
up
at
once
and
screamed
.
Scraps
and
shreds
of
thoughts
were
simply
swarming
in
his
brain
,
but
he
could
not
catch
at
one
,
he
could
not
rest
on
one
,
in
spite
of
all
his
efforts
.
.
.
.
So
he
lay
a
very
long
while
.
Now
and
then
he
seemed
to
wake
up
,
and
at
such
moments
he
noticed
that
it
was
far
into
the
night
,
but
it
did
not
occur
to
him
to
get
up
.
At
last
he
noticed
that
it
was
beginning
to
get
light
.
He
was
lying
on
his
back
,
still
dazed
from
his
recent
oblivion
.
Fearful
,
despairing
cries
rose
shrilly
from
the
street
,
sounds
which
he
heard
every
night
,
indeed
,
under
his
window
after
two
o
’
clock
.
They
woke
him
up
now
.
“
Ah
!
the
drunken
men
are
coming
out
of
the
taverns
,
”
he
thought
,
“
it
’
s
past
two
o
’
clock
,
”
and
at
once
he
leaped
up
,
as
though
someone
had
pulled
him
from
the
sofa
.
