Преступление и наказание

Chapter 7

           

           “Goodheavens!WhatamItodo?”

           Raskolnikovunfastenedthehook,openedthedoortherewasnosound.Abruptly,withoutanythoughtatall,hewentout,closingthedoorasthoroughlyashecould,andwentdownstairs.

           Hehadgonedownthreeflightswhenhesuddenlyheardaloudvoicebelowwherecouldhego!Therewasnowheretohide.Hewasjustgoingbacktotheflat.

           “Heythere!Catchthebrute!”

           Somebodydashedoutofaflatbelow,shouting,andratherfellthanrandownthestairs,bawlingatthetopofhisvoice.

           “Mitka!Mitka!Mitka!Mitka!Mitka!Blasthim!”

           Theshoutendedinashriek;thelastsoundscamefromtheyard;allwasstill.Butatthesameinstantseveralmentalkingloudandfastbegannoisilymountingthestairs.Therewerethreeorfourofthem.Hedistinguishedtheringingvoiceoftheyoungman.“Hey!”

           Filledwithdespairhewentstraighttomeetthem,feeling“comewhatmust!”Iftheystoppedhimallwaslost;iftheylethimpassallwaslosttoo;theywouldrememberhim.Theywereapproaching;theywereonlyaflightfromhimandsuddenlydeliverance!Afewstepsfromhimontheright,therewasanemptyflatwiththedoorwideopen,theflatonthesecondfloorwherethepaintershadbeenatwork,andwhich,asthoughforhisbenefit,theyhadjustleft.Itwasthey,nodoubt,whohadjustrundown,shouting.Thefloorhadonlyjustbeenpainted,inthemiddleoftheroomstoodapailandabrokenpotwithpaintandbrushes.

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