something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was

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something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,bob综合体育平台怎么样something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there wassomething, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was

something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,bob体育怎么样something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there wasbob体育g官网

something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,bob体育平台怎么样something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was

something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,bob棋牌是真人的吗,bob高登棋牌下载-bob高登棋牌游戏下载v2.3something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was

something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was,bobo体育app下载something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there wasbob软件打不开,something, but did not speak. "I asked you to go with me yesterday because you are all I have left." "Go where?" asked Sonia timidly. "Not to steal and not to murder, don't be anxious," he smiled bitterly. "We are so different.... And you know, Sonia, it's only now, only this moment that I understand where I asked you to go with me yesterday! Yesterday when I said it I did not know where. I asked you for one thing, I came to you for one thing- not to leave me. You won't leave me, Sonia?" She squeezed his hand. "And why, why did I tell her? Why did I let her know?" he cried a minute later in despair, looking with infinite anguish at her. "Here you expect an explanation from me, Sonia; you are sitting and waiting for it, I see that. But what can I tell you? You won't understand and will only suffer misery... on my account! Well, you are crying and embracing me again. Why do you do it? Because I couldn't bear my burden and have come to throw it on another: you suffer too, and I shall feel better! And can you love such a mean wretch?" "But aren't you suffering, too?" cried Sonia. Again a wave of the same feeling surged into his heart, and again for an instant softened it. "Sonia, I have a bad heart, take note of that. It may explain a great deal. I have come because I am bad. There are men who wouldn't have come. But I am a coward and... a mean wretch. But... never mind! That's not the point. I must speak now, but I don't know how to begin." He paused and sank into thought. "Ach, we are so different," he cried again, "we are not alike. And why, why did I come? I shall never forgive myself that." "No, no, it was a good thing you came," cried Sonia. "It's better I should know, far better!" He looked at her with anguish. "What if it were really that?" he said, as though reaching a conclusion. "Yes, that's what it was! I wanted to become a Napoleon, that is why I killed her.... Do you understand now?" "N-no," Sonia whispered naively and timidly. "Only speak, speak, I shall understand, I shall understand in myself!" she kept begging him. "You'll understand? Very well, we shall see!" He paused and was for some time lost in meditation. "It was like this: I asked myself one day this question- what if Napoleon, for instance, had happened to be in my place, and if he had not had Toulon nor Egypt nor the passage of Mont Blanc to begin his career with, but instead of all those picturesque and monumental things, there had simply been some ridiculous old hag, a pawnbroker, who had to be murdered too to get money from her trunk (for his career, you understand). Well, would he have brought himself to that, if there had been no other means? Wouldn't he have felt a pang at its being so far from monumental and... and sinful, too? Well, I must tell you that I worried myself fearfully over that 'question' so that I was awfully ashamed when I guessed at last (all of a sudden, somehow) that it would not have given him the least pang, that it would not even have struck him that it was not monumental... that he would not have seen that there was

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