Strona 427 z 1294

He has worn his shirt till it looks like a dish-clout, he has

torn it to rags! I'd do it all together, so as not to have to

work two nights running! Oh, dear! (Cough, cough, cough, cough!)

Again! What's this?" she cried, noticing a crowd in the passage

and the men, who were pushing into her room, carrying a burden.

"What is it? What are they bringing? Mercy on us!"

"Where are we to put him?" asked the policeman, looking round

when Marmeladov, unconscious and covered with blood, had been

carried in.

"On the sofa! Put him straight on the sofa, with his head this

way," Raskolnikov showed him.

"Run over in the road! Drunk!" someone shouted in the passage.

Katerina Ivanovna stood, turning white and gasping for breath.

The children were terrified. Little Lida screamed, rushed to

Polenka and clutched at her, trembling all over.

Having laid Marmeladov down, Raskolnikov flew to Katerina

Ivanovna.