- cid
- bafkreieo443arxru22hdyekjbt45tw4iiblacwdq7h4mi42434mvql6ism
- content_type
- image/jpeg
- filename
- crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0485.jpg
- key
- pdf-page-1768923071989-o1u3gn3tkv
- page_number
- 485
- pdf_type
- born_digital
- size
- 214064
- text
- CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 477
feverish chill he bent down to examine the bed: there was noth-
ing. He shook the blanket and suddenly a mouse jumped out on
the sheet. He tried to catch it, but the mouse ran to and fro
in zigzags without leaving the bed, slipped between his fingers,
ran over his hand and suddenly darted under the pillow. He
threw down the pillow, but in one instant felt something leap
on his chest and dart over his body and down his bick under
his shirt. He trembled nervously and woke up.
The room was dark. He was lying on the bed wrapped up
in the blanket as before. The wind was howling under the
window. "How disgusting," he thought with annoyance.
He got up and sat on the edge of the bedstead with his back
to the window. "It's better not to sleep at all," he decided.
There was a cold damp draught from the window, however;
without getting up he drew the blanket over him and wrapped
himself in it. He was not thinking of anything and did not want
to think. But one image rose after another, incoherent scraps of
thought without beginning or end passed through his mind. He
sank into drowsiness. Perhaps the cold, or the dampness, or the
dark, or the wind that howled under the window and tossed the
trees roused a sort of persistent craving for the fantastic. He
kept dwelling on images of flowers, he fancied a charming
flower girden, a bright, warm, almost hot day, a holiday —
Trinity day. A fine, sumptuous country cottage in the English
taste overgrown with fragrant flowers, with flower beds going
round the house; the porch, wreathed in climbers, was sur-
rounded with beds of roses. A light, cool staircase, carpeted
with rich rugs, was decorated with rare plants in china pots.
He noticed particularly in the windows nosegays of tender,
white, heavily fragrant narcissus bending over their bright,
green, thick long stalks. He was reluctant to move away from
them, but he went up the stairs and came into a large, high
drawing-room and again everywhere — at the windows, the
doors on to the balcony, and on the balcony itself — were
flowers. The floors were strewn with freshly-cut fragrant hay,
the windows were open, a fresh, cool, light air came into the
room. The birds were chirruping under the window, and in the
middle of the room, on a table covered with a white satin
shroud, stood a co£n. The coffin was covered with white silk
and edged with a thick white frill; wreaths of flowers sur-
- text_extracted_at
- 2026-01-20T15:31:11.989Z
- text_extracted_by
- pdf-processor
- text_has_content
- true
- text_source
- born_digital
- uploaded
- true