intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing

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intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,bob88体育平台提现不了intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thingintended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing

intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,bob综合app下载链接intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thingbobo体育直播

intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,bobapp体育官方下载intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing

intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,bob综合棋牌,bob棋牌app手机客户端intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing

intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing,bobo体育直播intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing体育彩票bobapp,intended to "tell" and he did not understand what was happening to him now. She went up to him, softly, sat down on the bed beside him and waited, not taking her eyes off him. Her heart throbbed and sank. It was unendurable; he turned his deadly pale face to her. His lips worked, helplessly struggling to utter something. A pang of terror passed through Sonia's heart. "What's the matter?" she repeated, drawing a little away from him. "Nothing, Sonia, don't be frightened.... It's nonsense. It really is nonsense, if you think of it," he muttered, like a man in delirium. "Why have I come to torture you?" he added suddenly, looking at her. "Why, really? I keep asking myself that question, Sonia...." He had perhaps been asking himself that question a quarter of an hour before, but now he spoke helplessly, hardly knowing what he said and feeling a continual tremor all over. "Oh, how you are suffering!" she muttered in distress, looking intently at him. "It's all nonsense.... Listen, Sonia." He suddenly smiled, a pale helpless smile for two seconds. "You remember what I meant to tell you yesterday?" Sonia waited uneasily. "I said as I went away that perhaps I was saying good-bye for ever, but that if I came to-day I would tell you who... who killed Lizaveta." She began trembling all over. "Well, here I've come to tell you." "Then you really meant it yesterday?" she whispered with difficulty. "How do you know?" she asked quickly, as though suddenly regaining her reason. Sonia's face grew paler and paler, and she breathed painfully. "I know." She paused a minute. "Have they found him?" she asked timidly. "No." "Then how do you know about it?" she asked again, hardly audibly and again after a minute's pause. He turned to her and looked very intently at her. "Guess," he said, with the same distorted helpless smile. A shudder passed over her. "But you... why do you frighten me like this?" she said, smiling like a child. "I must be a great friend of his... since I know," Raskolnikov went on, still gazing into her face, as though he could not turn his eyes away. "He... did not mean to kill that Lizaveta... he... killed her accidentally.... He meant to kill the old woman when she was alone and he went there... and then Lizaveta came in... he killed her too." Another awful moment passed. Both still gazed at one another. "You can't guess, then?" he asked suddenly, feeling as though he were flinging himself down from a steeple. "N-no..." whispered Sonia. "Take a good look." As soon as he had said this again, the same familiar sensation froze his heart. He looked at her and all at once seemed to see in her face the face of Lizaveta. He remembered clearly the expression in Lizaveta's face, when he approached her with the axe and she stepped back to the wall, putting out her hand, with childish terror in her face, looking as little children do when they begin to be frightened of something, looking intently and uneasily at what frightens them, shrinking back and holding out their little hands on the point of crying. Almost the same thing

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