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Nastasya
scrutinised
him
,
silent
and
frowning
,
and
her
scrutiny
lasted
a
long
time
.
He
felt
uneasy
,
even
frightened
at
her
searching
eyes
.
“
Nastasya
,
why
don
’
t
you
speak
?
”
he
said
timidly
at
last
in
a
weak
voice
.
“
It
’
s
the
blood
,
”
she
answered
at
last
softly
,
as
though
speaking
to
herself
.
“
Blood
?
What
blood
?
”
he
muttered
,
growing
white
and
turning
towards
the
wall
.
Nastasya
still
looked
at
him
without
speaking
.
“
Nobody
has
been
beating
the
landlady
,
”
she
declared
at
last
in
a
firm
,
resolute
voice
.
He
gazed
at
her
,
hardly
able
to
breathe
.
“
I
heard
it
myself
.
.
.
.
I
was
not
asleep
.
.
I
was
sitting
up
,
”
he
said
still
more
timidly
.
“
I
listened
a
long
while
.
The
assistant
superintendent
came
.
.
.
.
Everyone
ran
out
on
to
the
stairs
from
all
the
flats
.
”
“
No
one
has
been
here
.
That
’
s
the
blood
crying
in
your
ears
.
When
there
’
s
no
outlet
for
it
and
it
gets
clotted
,
you
begin
fancying
things
.
.
.
.
Will
you
eat
something
?
”
