{"id":"01KFE0CV42JDNAH15EA9N3DJ5Y","cid":"bafkreidy6cntw3w64ta44qww332o6t2trjhszfekys3sevd6phnlttnqm4","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreif732dsr66ox5wp7hqignpxqg7c3ystppj56vh3mgchg3yfhtoxym","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0118.jpg","key":"pdf-page-1768922966642-0rc612j6znr","label":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0118.jpg","page_number":118,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":220059,"text":"110 CRIME AND PUNISHMENT\nIt Struck him as strange and grotesque, that he should have\nstopped at the same spot as before, as though he actually\nimagined he could think the same thoughts, be interested in the\nsame theories and pictures that had interested him ... so short\na time ago. He felt it almost amusing, and yet it wrung his\nheart. Deep down, hidden far away out of sight all that seemed\nto him now — all his old past, his old thoughts, his old problems\nand theories, his old impressions and that picture and himself\nand all, all. . . . He felt as though he were flying upwards, and\neverything were vanishing from his sight. Making an uncon-\nscious movement with his hand, he suddenly became aware of\nthe piece of money in his fist. He op>ened his hand, stared at the\ncoin, and with a sweep of his arm flung it into the water; then\nhe turned and went home. It seemed to him, he had cut himself\noflF from every one and from everything at that moment.\nEvening was coming on when he reached home, so that he\nmust have been walking about six hours. How and where he\ncame back he did not remember. Undressing, and quivering like\nan over-driven horse, he lay down on the sofa, drew his great-\ncoat over him, and at once sank into oblivion. . . .\nIt was dusk when he was waked up by a fearful scream. Good\nGod, what a scream! Such unnatural sounds, such howling,\nwailing, grinding, tears, blows and curses he had never heard.\nHe could never have imagined such brutaUty, such frenzy. In\nterror he sat up in bed, almost swooning with agony. But the\nfighting, wailing and cursing grew louder and louder. And\nthen to his intense amazement he caught the voice of his land-\nlady. She was howling, shrieking and wailing, rapidly, hurriedly,\nincoherently, so that he could not make out what she was talk-\ning about; she was beseeching, no doubt, not to be beaten, for\nshe was being mercilessly beaten on the stairs. The voice of her\nassailant was so horrible from spite and rage that it was almost\na croak; but he, too, was saying something, and just as quickly\nand indistinctly, hurrying and spluttering. All at once Raskol-\nnikov trembled; he recognised the voice — it was the voice of\nIlya Petrovitch. Ilya Petrovitch here and beating the landlady!\nHe is kicking her, banging her head against the steps — that's\nclear, that can be told from the sounds, from the cries and the\nthuds. How is it, is the world topsy-turvy? He could hear people\nrunning in crowds from all the storeys and all the staircases; he","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-20T15:29:26.642Z","text_extracted_by":"pdf-processor","text_has_content":true,"text_source":"born_digital","uploaded":true},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFCZZ05FKVDDMJJV3YE9Q4WH","peer_label":"crimepunishment00dostiala.pdf","peer_type":"file","predicate":"derived_from"},{"peer":"01KESYJX0Z6XE0HWTS5N3SDG0B","peer_label":"The Classics","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-20T15:29:27.423Z","ts":"2026-01-20T15:29:28.406Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFCZWTBNJH4WFMS8354919KY"}}