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著者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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正確性100.0%

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"No, no! God will protect her, God!" she repeated beside herself.
"But, perhaps, there is no God at all," Raskolnikov answered with
a sort of malignance, laughed and looked at her.
Sonia's face suddenly changed; a tremor passed over it. She
looked at him with unutterable reproach, tried to say something,
but could not speak and broke into bitter, bitter sobs, hiding
her face in her hands.
"You say Katerina Ivanovna's mind is unhinged; your own mind is
unhinged," he said after a brief silence.
Five minutes passed. He still paced up and down the room in
silence, not looking at her. At last he went up to her; his eyes
glittered. He put his two hands on her shoulders and looked
straight into her tearful face. His eyes were hard, feverish and
piercing, his lips were twitching. All at once he bent down
quickly and dropping to the ground, kissed her foot. Sonia drew
back from him as from a madman. And certainly he looked like a
madman.

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