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108RAG
91RAGE
132RAISED
198RAKITIN
136RAKITINE
325RAN
90RANK
97RAPIDAMENTE
78RASCAL
972RASKOLNIKOF
784RASKOLNIKOV
353RASUMIKHINE
365RATHER
204RAZON
348RAZUMIHIN
135REACHED
405READ
113READER
153READING
217READY
173REAL
98REALIDAD
88REALITY
81REALIZED
497REALLY
279REASON
78RECALL
99RECEIVE
173RECEIVED
88RECIBIDO
82RECKON
84RECOVER
153RECUERDO
157RED
88REFUSE
97REFUSED
113REGARD
97REGULAR
171REIR
93RELACIONES
150RELATION
87RELATO
248REMAIN
105REMARK
78REMARKABLE
92REMARKED
519REMEMBER
151REMEMBERED
147REPEAT
144REPEATED
188REPENTE
80REPITO
79REPLICO
171REPLIED
89REPLY
80REPROACH
148REPUSO
76RESOLVED
177RESPECT
77RESPECTABLE
131RESPONDIO
208REST
133RESTO
154RETURN
128RETURNED
143REVOLVER
95RICH
82RIDICULOUS
579RIGHT
114RINCON
89RING
126RISA
81RISE
113ROAD
216RODIA
196RODION
127RODYA
395ROGOJIN
78ROMAN
174ROMANOVITCH
217ROMANOVNA
887ROOM
119ROSE
267ROSTRO
125ROUBLE
427ROUBLES
122ROULETTE
310ROUND
498RUBLOS
107RUEGO
151RUIN
88RULE
257RUN
130RUNNING
218RUSH
111RUSIA
124RUSO
80RUSSE
236RUSSIA
368RUSSIAN

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1. Dostoevsky. The Insulted and Injured (English. Униженные и оскорбленные). Part III. Chapter II
Входимость: 1. Размер: 29кб.
Часть текста: to have been here before anyone. But I'll tell you everything directly, everything, everything! I hadn't time to say two words to you this morning, daddy, and I had so much to say to you. It's only in his sweet moments he lets me speak to him like that," he interrupted himself, addressing me. "I assure you at other times he forbids it! And I'll tell you what he does. He begins to use my full name. But from this day I want him always to have good minutes, and I shall manage it! I've become quite a different person in these last four days, utterly, utterly different, and I'll tell you all about it. But that will be presently. The great thing now is that she's here. Her she is! Again! Natasha, darling, how are you, my angel!" he said, sitting down beside her and greedily kissing her hand. How I've been missing you all this time! But there it is! I couldn't help it! I wasn't able to manage it, my darling! You look a little thinner, you've grown so pale. . ." He rapturously covered her hands with kisses, and looked eagerly at her with his beautiful eyes, as though he could never look enough. I glanced at Natasha, and from her face I guessed that our thoughts were the same: he was absolutely innocent. And indeed when and how could this innocent be to blame? A bright flush suddenly overspread Natasha's pale cheeks,...
2. Dostoevsky. A Raw Youth (English. Подросток). Part III. Chapter XI
Входимость: 1. Размер: 45кб.
Часть текста: of life established once and for ever. Lambert quickly realised, however, that something had happened, and was delighted that I had come to him at last, and that I was IN HIS CLUTCHES. He had been thinking of nothing else day and night! Oh, how badly he needed me! And behold now, when he had lost all hope, I had suddenly appeared of my own accord, and in such a frantic state--just in the state which suited him. "Lambert, wine!" I cried: "let's drink, let's have a jolly time. Alphonsine, where's your guitar?" I won't describe the scene, it's unnecessary. We drank, and I told him all about it, everything. He listened greedily. I openly of my own accord suggested a plot, a general flare-up. To begin with, we were by letter to ask Katerina Nikolaevna to come to us. . . . "That's possible," Lambert assented, gloating over every word I said. Secondly, we must send a copy of the "document" in full, that she might see at once that she was not being deceived. "That's right, that's what we must do!" Lambert agreed, continually exchanging glances with Alphonsine. Thirdly, Lambert must ask her to come, writing as though he were an unknown person and...
3. Dostoevsky. The Possessed (English. Бесы). Part III. Chapter V. A wanderer
Входимость: 1. Размер: 76кб.
Часть текста: no one but he could say. Of course he would have achieved nothing, and would have simply betrayed himself. He had no proofs whatever with which to convict the perpetrators of the crime, and, indeed, he had nothing but vague conjectures to go upon, though to him they amounted to complete certainty. But he was ready to ruin himself if he could only “crush the scoundrels”—his own words. Pyotr Stepanovitch had guessed fairly correctly at this impulse in him, and he knew himself that he was risking a great deal in putting off the execution of his new awful project till next day. On his side there was, as usual, great self-confidence and contempt for all these “wretched creatures” and for Shatov in particular. He had for years despised Shatov for his “whining idiocy,” as he had expressed it in former days abroad, and he was absolutely confident that he could deal with such a guileless creature, that is, keep an eye on him all that day, and put a check on him at the first sign of danger. Yet what saved “the scoundrels” for a short time was something quite unexpected which they had not foreseen. . . . Towards eight o'clock in the evening (at the very time when the quintet was meeting at Erkel's, and waiting in indignation and excitement for Pyotr Stepanovitch) Shatov was lying in the dark on his bed with a headache and a slight chill; he was tortured by uncertainty, he was angry, he kept making up his mind, and could not make it up finally, and felt, with a curse, that it would all lead to nothing. Gradually he sank into a brief doze and had something like a nightmare. He dreamt that he was lying on his bed, tied up with cords and unable to stir, and meantime he heard a terrible banging that echoed all over the house, a banging on the fence, at the gate, at his door, in Kirillov's lodge, so that the whole house...
4. Dostoevsky. The Double (English. Двойник). Chapter IV
Входимость: 1. Размер: 29кб.
Часть текста: the birthday of Klara Olsufyevna, the only daughter of the civil councillor, Berendyev, at one time Mr. Golyadkin's benefactor and patron, was being celebrated by a brilliant and sumptuous dinner-party, such as had not been seen for many a long day within the walls of the flats in the neighbourhood of Ismailovsky Bridge - a dinner more like some Balthazar's feast, with a suggestion of something Babylonian in its brilliant luxury and style, with Veuve-Clicquot champagne, with oysters and fruit from Eliseyev's and Milyutin's, with all sorts of fatted calves, and all grades of the government service. This festive day was to conclude with a brilliant ball, a small birthday ball, but yet brilliant in its taste, its distinction and its style. Of course, I am willing to admit that similar balls do happen sometimes, though rarely. Such balls, more like family rejoicings than balls, can only be given in such houses as that of the civil councillor, Berendyev. I will say more: I even doubt if such balls could be given in the houses of all civil councillors. Oh, if I were a poet! such as Homer or Pushkin, I mean, of course; with any lesser talent one would not venture - I should certainly have painted all that glorious day for you, oh, my readers, with a free brush and brilliant colours! Yes, I should begin my poem with my dinner, I should lay special stress on that striking and solemn moment when the first goblet was raised to the honour of the queen of the fete. I should describe to you the guests plunged in a reverent silence and expectation, as eloquent as the rhetoric of Demosthenes; I should describe for you, then, how Andrey Filippovitch, having as the eldest of the guests some right to take precedence, adorned with his grey hairs and the orders what well befit grey hairs, got up from his seat and raised above his head the congratulatory glass of sparkling wine - brought from a distant kingdom to celebrate such occasions and more like heavenly nectar than plain...

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