Преступление и наказание

Chapter 6

           Haveyouthepapers?”heasked,goingintoaveryspaciousandpositivelycleanrestaurant,consistingofseveralrooms,whichwere,however,ratherempty.Twoorthreepeopleweredrinkingtea,andinaroomfurtherawayweresittingfourmendrinkingchampagne.RaskolnikovfanciedthatZametovwasoneofthem,buthecouldnotbesureatthatdistance.“Whatifitis?”hethought.

           “Willyouhavevodka?”askedthewaiter.

           “Givemesometeaandbringmethepapers,theoldonesforthelastfivedays,andI’llgiveyousomething.”

           “Yes,sir,here’sto-day’s.Novodka?”

           Theoldnewspapersandtheteawerebrought.Raskolnikovsatdownandbegantolookthroughthem.

           “Oh,damn...thesearetheitemsofintelligence.Anaccidentonastaircase,spontaneouscombustionofashopkeeperfromalcohol,afireinPeski...afireinthePetersburgquarter...anotherfireinthePetersburgquarter...andanotherfireinthePetersburgquarter....Ah,hereitis!”Hefoundatlastwhathewasseekingandbegantoreadit.Thelinesdancedbeforehiseyes,buthereaditallandbeganeagerlyseekinglateradditionsinthefollowingnumbers.Hishandsshookwithnervousimpatienceasheturnedthesheets.Suddenlysomeonesatdownbesidehimathistable.Helookedup,itwastheheadclerkZametov,lookingjustthesame,withtheringsonhisfingersandthewatch-chain,withthecurly,blackhair,partedandpomaded,withthesmartwaistcoat,rathershabbycoatanddoubtfullinen.

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