{"id":"01KFE0GJHF22BTHWPZXTAVP5PX","cid":"bafkreiemz2asrc3l4w6prsarhrjpta5kzwnwotpnwwx4oqtradvqxit3tu","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreig5xww2bmx7thwaijgkjoabm2vspufu4phi67dap7llp53zilxuf4","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0504.jpg","key":"pdf-page-1768923089176-1a16svw1unhi","label":"crimepunishment00dostiala_page_0504.jpg","page_number":504,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":200715,"text":"•496 CRIME AND PUN/SHMENT\nthe market-place. She had followed him then on his painful way!\nRaskolnikov at that moment felt and knew once for all that\nSonia was with him for ever and would follow him to the ends\nof the earth, wherever fate might take him. It wrung his heart\n. . . but he was just reaching the fatal place.\nHe went into the yard fairly resolutely. He had to mount to\nthe third storey. \"I shall be some time going up,\" he thought.\nHe felt as though the fateful moment was still far off, as though\nhe had plenty of time left for consideration.\nAgain the same rubbish, the same eggshells lying about on\nthe spiral stairs, again the open doors of the flats, again the\nsame kitchens and the same fumes and stench coming from\nthem. Raskolnikov had not been here since that day. His legs\nwere numb and gave way under him, but still they moved\nforward. He stopped for a moment to take breath, to collect\nhimself, so as to enter like a man. \"But why? what for?\" he\nwondered, reflecting. \"If I must drink the cup what difference\ndoes it make? The more revolting the better.\" He imagined for\nxn instant the figure of the \"explosive lieutenant,\" Ilya Petro-\nvitch. Was he actually going to him? Couldn't he go to some\none else? To Nikodim Fomitch? Couldn't he turn back and\ngo straight to Nikodim Fomitch's lodgings? At least then it\nwould be done privately. . . . No, no! To the \"explosive lieu-\ntenant\"! Ifhe must drink it, drink it ofl^ at once.\nTurning cold and hardly conscious, he opened the door of the\noffice. There were very few people in it this time — only a house\nporter and a peasant. The doorkeeper did not even peep out\nfrom behind his screen. Raskolnikov walked into the next room.\n\"Perhaps I still need not speak,\" passed through his mind. Some\nsort of clerk not wearing a uniform was settling himself at a\nbureau to write. In a corner another clerk was seating himself.\nZametov was not there, nor, of course, Nikodim Fomitch.\n\"No one in?\" Raskolnikov asked, addressing the person at\nthe bureau.\n\"Whom do you want?\"\n\"A-ah! Not a sound was heard, not a sight was seen, but I\nscent the Russian . . . how does it go on in the fairy tale . . .\nI've forgotten! At your service!\" a familiar voice cried sud-\ndenly.\nRaskolnikov shuddered. The Explosive Lieutenant stood be-","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-20T15:31:29.176Z","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":"2026-01-20T15:31:29.608Z","ts":"2026-01-20T15:31:30.635Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFCZWTBNJH4WFMS8354919KY"}}