{"id":"01KFE0G1ZB15MRMMRYC8M93EHV","cid":"bafkreicd4zi25mbtjm7dbfvxwzzopa62lbatrlvifbqiaipssoxwzkwgey","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreieg45x6566piahzfn2yanrqif3sxopbkttwt2angrlvyhguv52wny","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0423.jpg","key":"pdf-page-1768923071953-8o3jfm8zyzi","label":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0423.jpg","page_number":423,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":216234,"text":"CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 415\nsinging the service. From his childhood the thought of death\nand the presence of death had something oppressive and mysteri-\nously awful; and it was long since he had heard the requiem\nservice. And there was something else here as well, too awful\nand disturbing. He looked at the children: they were all kneel-\ning by the cofi&n; Polenka was weeping. Behind them Sonia\nprayed, softly, and, as it were, timidly weeping.\n\"These last two days she hasn't said a word to me, she hasn't\nglanced at me,\" Raskolnikov thought suddenly. The sunlight\nwas bright in the room; the incense rose in clouds; the priest\nread, \"Give rest, oh Lord. . . .\" Raskolnikov stayed all through\nthe service. As he blessed them and took his leave, the priest\nlooked round strangely. After the service, Raskolnikov went up\nto Sonia. She took both his hands and let her head sink on his\nshoulder. This slight friendly gesture bewildered Raskolnikov.\nIt seemed strange to him that there was no trace of repugnance,\nno trace of disgust, no tremor in her hand. It was the furthest\nlimit of self-abnegation, at least so he interpreted it.\nSonia said nothing. Raskolnikov pressed her hand and went\nout. He felt very miserable. If it had been possible to escape to\nsome solitude, he would have thought himself lucky, even if he\nhad to spend his whole life there. But although he had almost\nalways been by himself of late, he had never been able to feel\nalone. Sometimes he walked out of the town on to the high road,\nonce he had even reached a little wood, but the lonelier the place\nwas, the more he seemed to be aware of an uneasy presence near\nhim. It did not frighten him, but greatly annoyed him, so that\nhe made haste to return to the town, to mingle with the crowd,\nto enter restaurants and taverns, to walk in busy thoroughfares.\nThere he felt easier and even more solitary. One day at dusk he\nsat for an hour listening to songs in a tavern and he remembered\nthat he positively enjoyed it. But at last he had suddenly felt the\nsame uneasiness again, as though his conscience smote him.\n\"Here I sit listening to singing, is that what I ought to be\ndoing?\" he thought. Yet he felt at once that that was not the\nonly cause of his uneasiness; there was something requiring im^\nmediate decision, but it was something he could not clearly un-\nderstand orput into words. It was a hopeless tangle. \"No, better\nthe struggle again! Better Porfiry again ... or Svidrigailov. . . .\nBetter some challenge again . . . some attack. Yes, yes!\" he","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-20T15:31:11.953Z","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":"2026-01-20T15:31:12.904Z","ts":"2026-01-20T15:31:14.316Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFCZWTBNJH4WFMS8354919KY"}}