Diller

Klavye

Sayfa 810 / 1294

Yazar: Fyodor Dostoevsky

Süre0:00
Hız (WPM)0.0
Doğruluk100.0%

Başlat düğmesine bastıktan sonra yazmaya başla. · Backspace devre dışı — yanlış yazsan da devam et.

"Oh, don't trouble, please," cried Raskolnikov and he suddenly
broke into a laugh. "Please don't trouble."
Porfiry stood facing him, paused a moment and suddenly he too
laughed. Raskolnikov got up from the sofa, abruptly checking his
hysterical laughter.
"Porfiry Petrovitch," he began, speaking loudly and distinctly,
though his legs trembled and he could scarcely stand. "I see
clearly at last that you actually suspect me of murdering that
old woman and her sister Lizaveta. Let me tell you for my part
that I am sick of this. If you find that you have a right to
prosecute me legally, to arrest me, then prosecute me, arrest me.
But I will not let myself be jeered at to my face and worried..."
His lips trembled, his eyes glowed with fury and he could not
restrain his voice.
"I won't allow it!" he shouted, bringing his fist down on the
table. "Do you hear that, Porfiry Petrovitch? I won't allow it."

Başlat düğmesine bastıktan sonra yazmaya başla.

Başlatılmadı