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لوحة المفاتيح

صفحة 144 من 1294

المؤلف: Fyodor Dostoevsky

الوقت0:00
السرعة (WPM)0.0
الدقة100.0%

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"Thrash her, thrash her! Why have you stopped?" shouted voices in
the crowd.
And Mikolka swung the shaft a second time and it fell a second
time on the spine of the luckless mare. She sank back on her
haunches, but lurched forward and tugged forward with all her
force, tugged first on one side and then on the other, trying to
move the cart. But the six whips were attacking her in all
directions, and the shaft was raised again and fell upon her a
third time, then a fourth, with heavy measured blows. Mikolka was
in a fury that he could not kill her at one blow.
"She's a tough one," was shouted in the crowd.
"She'll fall in a minute, mates, there will soon be an end of
her," said an admiring spectator in the crowd.
"Fetch an axe to her! Finish her off," shouted a third.

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