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لوحة المفاتيح

صفحة 827 من 1294

المؤلف: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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الدقة100.0%

اضغط ابدأ واكتب السطور بدقة. · مفتاح الرجوع معطل — استمر حتى بعد الخطأ.

"But he..." began the same voice, and suddenly ceased.
Two seconds, not more, were spent in actual struggle, then
someone gave a violent shove, and then a man, very pale, strode
into the room.
This man's appearance was at first sight very strange. He stared
straight before him, as though seeing nothing. There was a
determined gleam in his eyes; at the same time there was a
deathly pallor in his face, as though he were being led to the
scaffold. His white lips were faintly twitching.
He was dressed like a workman and was of medium height, very
young, slim, his hair cut in round crop, with thin spare
features. The man whom he had thrust back followed him into the
room and succeeded in seizing him by the shoulder; he was a
warder; but Nikolay pulled his arm away.
Several persons crowded inquisitively into the doorway. Some of
them tried to get in. All this took place almost instantaneously.

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