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Yazar: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Instantly he thrust them all under his great coat and fixed his
eyes intently upon her. Far as he was from being capable of
rational reflection at that moment, he felt that no one would
behave like that with a person who was going to be arrested.
"But... the police?"
"You'd better have some tea! Yes? I'll bring it, there's some
left."
"No... I'm going; I'll go at once," he muttered, getting on to
his feet.
"Why, you'll never get downstairs!"
"Yes, I'll go."
"As you please."
She followed the porter out.
At once he rushed to the light to examine the sock and the rags.

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