كتاب · Crime and Punishment
صفحة 287 من 1294
المؤلف: Fyodor Dostoevsky
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"Just now... half an hour ago, Ilya Petrovitch, the assistant
superintendent, on the stairs.... Why was he ill-treating her
like that, and... why was he here?"
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."
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