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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75463-0.txt b/75463-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c880e60 --- /dev/null +++ b/75463-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7515 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75463 *** + + + + + + RED LOVE + + By ALEXANDRA KOLLONTAY + + NEW YORK + SEVEN ARTS + PUBLISHING COMPANY + + COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY + SEVEN ARTS PUBLISHING CO. + + _All rights reserved_ + + First Printing, March, 1927 + Second Printing, March, 1927 + + AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION + + _Printed in the United States of America by_ + J. J. LITTLE AND IVES COMPANY, NEW YORK + + + + + FOREWORD + + TO THE ENGLISH EDITION + + +This novel is neither a study in "morals," nor a picture of the +standard of life in Soviet Russia. It is a purely psychological study +of sex-relations in the post-war period. + +I have chosen the environment of my own country and made my own people +protagonists, for I know them better and could give a more vivid +picture of their inner life and characters. Many of the problems +presented are not exclusively Soviet-Russian; they are world-wide +facts, which can be noted in all countries. These silent psychological +dramas, born of the change in the sexual relations; this evolution, +especially, in the feelings of women, are well known to the younger +generation of Europe. + +Do we ever judge a man for his conduct in love-affairs? Generally, if +he does not overstep certain, very flexible limits, we say that his +sexual life is his own "private affair." The character of a man is +evaluated not by his conduct in family morals, but by his efficiency +in work, by his intellect, his will, his usefulness to the State and +Society. As long as the majority of women had no direct duties to the +State or to Society, as long as their whole activity was concentrated +within the family limits, civilized nations demanded no other qualities +in woman than that she display "good morals" in sexual and family life. + +Now, when more than half of the grown-up women-citizens in most +countries toil and struggle, just as the men do, Society puts new +demands on the women. Their ability to respond to the social duties +of a citizen begins to have more value than their "goodness" and +"stainlessness" in family morals. Family life is not the unique field +of activity for women nowadays; often enough her family duties come +into bitter conflict with her out-of-home work and her public duties. +It is only natural, therefore, that the method of evaluating a woman +today is different from that of our grandfathers and grandmothers. + +Though a woman may, at the present time, attain "perfection" in the +current bourgeois standard of family morals, and be "esteemed" by her +own people, she may neither receive the real appreciation of society +nor the "respect" of the State. She will merely be "overlooked." On +the contrary: a woman may not be "spotless" from the point of view +of current bourgeois sex morals, but if she is an outstanding figure +in politics, art, science, etc., one will not even "whisper" about +her behind her back. Were one to put into the balance two women: one +with "good morals," but who never did any useful work for the country +or humanity, and the other, whose "family morals" are not free from +criticism, but who is an efficient public worker--there would be no +doubt about the choice. + +Our criteria in sex morals are always changing. There is never a +standstill. There are merely periods in human history when the +evolution of morals goes on more rapidly, other periods (with a +general stagnation in all fields of life) when change seems to relax. +Only half a century ago Dumas-fils wrote of a "divorcée" as of a +"fallen" creature, while today France openly discusses the question +of equalizing the rights of non-legal mothers with those of legally +married women. There remains less and less of the old bourgeois +hypocrisy in our way of thinking and judging of sex morals. + +I do hope that this book will aid in combating the old, bourgeois +hypocrisy in moral values and show once more that we are beginning to +respect woman, not for her "good morals," but for her efficiency, for +her ingenuity with respect to her duties toward her class, her country +and humanity as a whole. + +Mexico City, March 10th, 1927 + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PART ONE + + LOVE + + + PART TWO + + MENAGE + + + PART THREE + + FREEDOM + + + + + LOVE + + + + + CHAPTER I + + +Vassilissa was a working-girl twenty-eight years old, a knitter by +trade. Thin, anemic, a typical child of the city. Her hair, cut short +after typhus, grew in curls. From a distance she looked like a boy. +She was flat-chested, and wore a shirtwaist and a worn-out leather +belt. She was not pretty. But her eyes were beautiful: brown, friendly, +observant. Thoughtful eyes. Those eyes would never pass by another's +sorrow. + +She was a Communist. At the beginning of the war she had become a +Bolshevik. She hated the war from the first. Collections had been made +in the shop for the front; people were ready to work overtime for the +Russian victory. But Vassilissa objected. War was a bloody horror. What +was the good of it? War brought hardships to the people. And you felt +so sorry for the soldiers, the poor young fellows--like sheep being +led to the slaughter. When Vassilissa met a detachment on the street, +going to war in full military array, she always had to turn away. They +were going to meet death, but they shouted and sang at the top of their +lungs! And how lustily they sang, as if they were out for a holiday. +What forced them? They should have refused: We won't go to our death; +we won't kill other men! Then there would be no war. + +Vassilissa was able to read and write well; she had learned from her +father, a compositor. She read Tolstoy and liked his work. + +In the shop she was the only one "for peace." She would have been +discharged, but all hands were needed. The manager looked askance at +her, but did not let her go. Soon Vassilissa was known throughout the +district: she is against the war, a follower of Tolstoy. The women +stopped speaking to her: she doesn't want to have anything to do with +her country; she doesn't love Russia. She is lost! + +Reports of her reached the local organizer, a Bolshevik. He became +acquainted with Vassilissa, and talked with her; soon his opinion was +formed: "A girl of character; knows what she's about. The party could +use her." + +She was drawn into the organization. But Vassilissa did not become a +Bolshevik immediately. She quarreled with the members of the Party. +Asked them questions, and went away furious. After long deliberation +she came back of her own accord, saying: "I want to work with you." + +During the Revolution she helped in the work of organization, and +became a member of the Workers' Council. She liked the Bolsheviki and +admired Lenin because he opposed the war so uncompromisingly. + +In her debates with the Mensheviki and the Social Revolutionists she +spoke skilfully, heatedly, tempestuously, never at a loss for words. +The other women, working-women, were timid, but Vassilissa always spoke +up without hesitation whenever it was necessary. And what she said +always was clear and to the point. + +She won the respect of her comrades. Under Kerensky she was a candidate +for the municipal Duma. The girls in the knitting-shop were proud of +her. Now her every word was law. Vassilissa knew how to manage women, +speaking amicably, upbraiding them, as the case required. She knew +everyone's troubles, for she had been in the factory herself since her +girlhood. And she defended their interests. Her comrades sometimes +rebuked her: "Can't you forget your women? We have no time for them +now--there are more important things." + +Vassilissa flared up, gave the Comrades a good berating, and quarreled +with the district secretary. But she did not withdraw her demands. "Why +are women's affairs less important? This idea is a habit with all of +you. That's why women are 'backward.' But you can't have a revolution +without the women. Woman is everything. Man does what she thinks and +suggests to him. If you win over the women, half your work is done." + +Vassilissa was very belligerent in '18. She knew what she wanted; and +she did not compromise. The others relaxed a bit in the last few years, +lagged behind and stayed at home. But Vassilissa carried on. Always +fighting, always organizing something, always insisting on a definite +point. + +She was tireless. Where did she get her energy? She was delicate, +with not a drop of blood in her face--only eyes. Sympathetic eyes, +intelligent and observant. + + * * * * * + +Vassilissa received a letter, the long and hungrily expected letter +from her man, her comrade, her lover. They had been separated for +months. There was nothing they could do about it. First the civil war, +and now the "economic front." The party was mobilizing all its members. +The Revolution was no game; it demanded sacrifices from everybody. So +Vassilissa, too, brought her sacrifice to the Revolution. Nearly always +she had to live without her lover, far away from him. They were torn +apart, at opposite ends of Russia. Her friends said: "You're better off +this way. He'll love you longer, because he won't get tired of you." +Perhaps they were right; but life was sad without him. True, Vassilissa +had little free time. From early morning until late at night she was +overwhelmed with work for the Party and for the Soviet, one crowding +out the other. Important, urgent, fascinating work. But when she came +to her little room her heart was convulsed with longing for her lover. +She felt an icy draught. She would sit down to drink tea and to think. +It seemed as if no one needed her. As if she had no comrades, although +she had worked with them all day--as if she had no goal for which she +was striving. What was the use of it all? Who wanted it? Mankind? Men +couldn't appreciate it. Today, again, they had spoiled something, +called one another names, made complaints. Everyone was working for +himself alone. They refused to understand that they must live for +society. They could not understand. + +Even Vassilissa had been insulted, rudely abused, reproached for her +worker's _payok_ (ration-card). The devil take it--she didn't need it! +Her comrades had persuaded her. Now her strength was leaving her; she +felt dizzy. There she sat, leaning on the table, and drank her tea, +nibbled rock-candy, and brooded over all the affronts of the day. Now +she could see nothing good or splendid in the Revolution. Only failure, +vexation and struggle. + +If only her lover had been there. Then she could have talked and +unburdened her heart. He would have caressed her tenderly. + +"Why so dejected, Vasya? A tomboy like you, afraid of no one, +challenging everybody, overlooking nothing--and now look at her: there +she sits with ruffled feathers, like a puffed-up sparrow under the +gable!" + +He would pick her up; he was strong, would carry her about the room +like a child and sing a lullaby. They would laugh--her heart ached +with joy. Oh, how Vassilissa adored her lover, her man and comrade. A +handsome fellow, tender and loving--so tender. + +Thinking of him, Vassilissa felt even more wretched. Her attic was so +desolate, so lonely. She sighed. Clearing away the tea things, she +scolded herself. What in the world do you want? Do you expect only joy +from life? You love your work. You have the esteem of your comrades. +And then you have your lover. Isn't that more than enough, Vassilissa +Dementyevna? The Revolution is no holiday; everyone must sacrifice. +"Everything for the commonweal; everything for the triumph of the +Revolution." + + * * * * * + +Thus Vassilissa in the winter. But now it was spring. The sun shone so +gayly, the sparrows chattered under the gables. Early in the morning +Vassilissa watched them, smiling as she remembered her lover calling +her a puffed-up sparrow. Spring sounded a call to life. It was more +and more difficult to work. Vassilissa was anemic, and her lungs were +affected. + +Vassilissa had organized a community house, a task she had taken over +of her own accord, and which was entirely independent of her general +Party and Soviet work. This community house was dearest of all to +her. She had long had the idea of organizing a model house, where the +Communist spirit should prevail. Not an ordinary community house, +where everyone would live for himself, where no one cared for his +neighbor, where squabbling, bickering, and dissatisfaction were the +rule, where no one was willing to work for the common good, where +everyone was constantly making demands. No, Vassilissa had planned +something quite different. Patiently, almost secretly, she had got the +house ready. How many difficulties she had had! The house had been +taken away from her twice. It had involved her in innumerable disputes. +But finally she had succeeded. Had organized it: a community kitchen, a +laundry, a nursery, a dining-room--Vassilissa's pride, with curtains at +the windows, and geranium plants--and a library, furnished like a club +room. + +At the beginning everything went well. The women who lived in the +house covered Vassilissa with their moist kisses; "There's our little +darling. Our guardian angel. You've made everything so easy for us. +It's too wonderful." + +But then the trouble began. The house rules were broken. It was +impossible to teach the women cleanliness. They fought over the pots +and pans in the kitchen. They let the washtubs overflow, almost +flooding the house. And every mistake, every quarrel, every disturbance +brought complaints against Vassilissa, as if she were the "landlady," +as if she had been at fault. Punishments became necessary. The tenants +grew angry, felt offended; some of them moved away. + +Matters went on in this fashion, growing worse and worse. Constant +quarrels and differences. There were a couple of real trouble-makers, +the Fedosseyevs; nothing could please them. Always nagging and nagging, +though they didn't know themselves what they wanted; never satisfied. +And they stirred up the others. Chiefly because they had been the first +to move into the house, and felt as if it belonged to them. But what +did they want? What didn't they like? Vassilissa couldn't understand. +And they embittered her life, caused trouble every day. + +Vassilissa was weary, vexed to tears. She saw the failure of her plan. +Then, a new order: everything must be paid for with cash on delivery. +Water and electricity. Taxes must be paid, assessments must be covered. +Vassilissa was beset on all sides. There was no use! The new exchange +rate. Nothing could be done without money. Vassilissa worked like +a slave. It might have been better to drop the whole business. But +she was not that sort. Once she put her hand to anything, she saw it +through. + +She went to Moscow, visiting various bureaus day after day. She +approached the highest authorities. Her reports and accounts were +received very favorably; finally she won her community house. They even +assisted her with an allowance for repairs. But in the future she would +nevertheless have to make the house self-supporting. + +Vassilissa returned delighted. The Fedosseyevs, however, were sulky. +They were cross with her, as if she had harmed them by winning her +fight for the community house. + +Now new worries began. The rumor spread that Vassilissa did not keep +her house accounts straight, that she made a little profit on the side. + +It was hard, then, without her lover. She needed a close comrade. She +wrote to him, called him. But important affairs prevented his coming. +He had a new position of great responsibility. He had to systematize +and reorganize the affairs of the firm in which he had formerly been a +clerk. He had been complaining all winter; it was a difficult task. It +was impossible for him to get away. Everything rested on his shoulders. + +So Vassilissa remained alone in all her difficulties, drained to the +dregs the cup of man's unfairness. And who was unfair? Her own people, +her comrades, the workers! This hurt more than anything else. If it had +only been the _burshui_! + +When the Fedosseyevs were to be put out, the two of them begged +Vassilissa to forgive them, assured her that they had always esteemed +her. But she could not enjoy her victory. She was tired, worn out, too +exhausted to be glad. She fell ill. + +Then she returned to her work. But in her soul something had died. + +She no longer loved the community house. It was as if her child had +been violated. Like an incident of her childhood: her brother, Kolyka, +showed her a piece of candy. But when she reached out for it he laughed +spitefully, saying: "Now I'll make it disgusting for you." + +And he spat on it. "Why don't you eat your candy, Vassilissa? It's +good." + +But Vassilissa turned away in tears. "You dirty thing! You bully! You +good-for-nothing! Why did you spoil my candy?" + +This was how she felt about the community house now. She was sick of +it. True, the management was still in her hands, but her heart wasn't +in it. If only she could get away! Her relations with the tenants had +been spoiled. Were they not against her? Didn't they side with the +Fedosseyevs? And why? Why? + +On the whole, she lost her interest in people. Before, Vassilissa +had been much more warm-hearted. She had thought of everyone, pitied +everyone, worried about everyone. Now she wanted only one thing: leave +me alone. Don't touch me! I'm tired. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + +Spring was peeping through the window of Vassilissa's attic, high up +under the roof. The warm sun peeped in, and the spring sky, with its +fleecy clouds, white, delicate, melting away. Next door was the roof +of what had been a gentleman's house, and now was used as the Mothers' +Home. Behind it lay a garden; the buds were beginning to swell. Spring, +beloved spring was late, but it had come at last. + +Today there was spring in Vassilissa's heart also. It had almost +frozen in the winter; always lonely, always alone. Constant worries, +struggles, irritations. But today was a holiday, a real holiday. There +was a letter from her lover, from her dearest Volodya. And what a +letter! It was a long time since she had got a letter like that. + + "Don't torture me, Vasya; my patience is at an end. How often + you've promised to come to me for a visit! But you always + disappoint me, you hurt me, you tireless tomboy of mine. Have + you been fighting with everybody again? There were rumors about + you even among the comrades here. They say you even got into the + papers. But since you came out on top in this business, come to + your beloved Volodya now. He can hardly wait for you. + + "You'll see, we'll live like fine people. I have a horse and a + cow of my own, and an automobile always at my disposal. I have + servants, so that you will have no work to do in the house, but can + take a good rest. Spring is at its height here; the apple trees are + in full bloom. Vasya, darling tomboy--we've never spent a spring + together. But our life must always be like the spring. + + "Anyway, I need you very much just now. I'm having trouble with the + Party Committee here. They have it in for me. They can't forget + that I was once an anarchist. It started on account of Savelyev, as + I wrote you. You'll have to straighten out this business. I'm sick + of all these meddlers. They don't let you breathe! It's hard for + them to find anything against me. I'm doing my duty well. But all + the same, I need you very much now. + + "I kiss your brown eyes. + + "Yours forever, + "Volodya." + +Vassilissa sat beside the window, watching the white clouds in the sky, +and thinking. Her eyes were smiling. A good letter! Volodya loved her, +very much. And how she loved him! She laid the letter on her knees +and stroked it as if it were Volodya's head. She didn't see the blue +sky, the roof, the clouds. She saw only her handsome Volodya with his +mischievously twinkling eyes. Vassilissa loved him, loved him so that +it hurt. How had she ever lived through the entire winter without him? +She hadn't seen him for seven months. And it seemed to her that she +had little thought of him, little longing for him. She had no time to +think of her man, or to yearn for him. How much trouble and worry she +had had during the winter! The child of her heart, the community house, +was safe; but she had had to quarrel with stupid, uncomprehending, +uncultured people. And she had hidden her love and longing for Volodya +in the innermost corner of her heart. Her love for him dwelt in her +heart, unchangeable. Thinking of him, Vassilissa felt that he was +there, in her heart. A sweet burden, she actually felt the weight of +her love. Probably because she always had to be worrying about him. +If only nothing happened to him. He did not maintain discipline. The +comrades were right. Vassilissa knew it. They accused him of being an +"anarchist." He didn't like to follow instructions, preferred to do +things in his own way. But he made up for this with his work. + +This was why they lived separately, so that they wouldn't disturb each +other; for she too was in her work with all her heart and soul. But +when Volodya was around, she would be drawn to him, and her work would +suffer. + +"First our work, and then our love, don't you think so, Vasya?" said +Vladimir, and Vasya agreed. Their ideas were the same. And it was so +wonderful that they were not merely man and wife, but comrades as well. +Now, again, he summoned her to help him like a comrade, to overcome his +difficulties. What sort of difficulties? Vassilissa read the letter +again. + +A mist seemed to form before her eyes. If it was on account of +Savelyev, it would be a nasty affair. This Savelyev was a speculator; +he was crooked. Why did Volodya have anything to do with him? A +manager, such as Volodya was now, had to be as blameless as a saint, +had to avoid all rogues. Volodya, however, was a trusting soul. He felt +sorry for Savelyev, stood up for him. Still, no one should feel sorry +for such men, who were stealing the property of the people. Let them +suffer the penalty for their misdeeds. + +But Volodya was kind-hearted; and the others could not understand him. +They would have other explanations for this friendship. Volodya had +many enemies, for he was hot-headed, unable to control his tongue. If +only matters wouldn't develop as they had three years ago. If only no +action were brought against him. It was easy to lose one's reputation. +A charge could be trumped up against anyone. Vassilissa's experience +had taught her that. Hadn't people been stirred up against her all +winter long? Now it was Volodya's turn. + +She would have to go to him, and help him. She had to stand by him, so +that his comrades there would be ashamed of themselves. What was there +to think about? She would get ready and go. + +But the house? She didn't care. There was nothing to salvage now. +Everything was going to ruin anyhow. Even though Vassilissa had won the +fight, the Fedosseyevs were the actual victors. It was impossible to +save anything. Vassilissa sighed. Going to the window, she looked down +into the court. As if she were bidding the house farewell. She stood +there for a long time. Gravely, sadly. + +Suddenly it struck her. "Soon I'll see Volodya again!" Her cheeks +flushed, her heart beat with joy. My beloved, my dearest. I'm coming, +coming to you. My Volodya. + + * * * * * + +Vassilissa was sitting in the coach, sleeping. It was her second day of +travel. Another twenty-four hours lay ahead of her. + +This trip was different from her others. She was provided with every +comfort, like a _burshuika_. Vladimir had sent her the money for the +trip, (everything had to be paid for nowadays), and had asked that she +go in the sleeping-car. Besides, he had sent her a piece of cloth for a +suit. A manager's lady had to be well dressed. Vassilissa had to laugh +when a comrade came from Vladimir Ivanovitch, the director, and brought +her the money and the cloth. He praised the quality like a true +salesman. Vasya laughed and teased the Comrade. But he seemed offended. +He had not been joking; the material really was excellent. Vasya said +nothing more. These new Comrades, the economists, were beyond her +comprehension. + +For a long time Vasya turned the cloth over and over. She was not used +to thinking of clothes. But if Volodya wanted it, so that his wife +would not be too conspicuous--all right. She would have a fashionable +suit made, such as everyone was wearing. + +She went to a friend, the seamstress Grusha, and told her the story. +"Make it nice and stylish, Grusha, like the clothes others wear." + +Grusha pulled out some fashion magazines that a comrade had brought +her from Moscow the previous fall. She had sewed according to it all +winter, to the satisfaction of all. + +"That's fine, Grusha. You select something. I don't understand such +things. If it's neat and not torn, I'm satisfied. I know nothing about +the styles." + +Moistening her finger-tips, Grusha spent some time in turning over the +leaves of the much-used magazine. At last she found her choice. + +"There! This'll be good for you. You are thin, you need something to +make you seem fuller. This is just the thing for you. A little fullness +in the sides, and pleats in front, then you won't look so flat. I'll +fix it so that your man will like you." + +"Then that's settled." + +They agreed on a price, and kissed. Vassilissa went away happy. It was +a good thing there were dress-makers in the world. She would never +have been able to make a dress by herself. Volodya, however, was a +connoisseur of women's clothes. Of course, for in America he had been +employed in a fashionable women's wear shop. And now his knowledge +was useful to him. The Red merchants must know something of women's +clothes; they were a form of merchandise. + + * * * * * + +Vassilissa was sitting at the window of her sleeping compartment. She +was alone. Her neighbor, a "Nep" girl, very loud, dressed in silks, +heavily perfumed, her ears weighed down with rings, had gone into the +next compartment, where she was laughing loudly with her "cavaliers." + +She had given Vassilissa the cold shoulder, curling her lips +contemptuously. "Beg pardon, dear, but you're sitting on my shawl. +You'll crease it." Or, "Won't you go out into the corridor, dear, while +I get undressed for the night?" As if she, the perfumed Nep-girl, owned +the compartment, and had let Vassilissa in only out of the kindness of +her heart. Vassilissa didn't like the Nep-girl's calling her "dear." +But she didn't want to start a quarrel. Let her go to the devil! + +Night was falling. Bluish gray shadows covered the young fields. Over +the distant purplish-black strip of woods the sun hung like a red ball +of fire. The rooks had risen from the fields, and were circling in the +air. The wires were rising and falling between the telegraph poles. + +With the twilight an unaccountable anxiety and longing crept into +Vassilissa's heart. Not sadness, but longing. She had prepared for the +journey, settled her affairs. And suddenly everybody had been sorry to +see her leave. Perhaps she would never return. + +The Fedosseyev woman had come to her, had embraced her, had wept and +begged her pardon. It had been painful. In her inmost heart Vassilissa +was not angry with Fedosseyeva; but she had no respect for her, as she +was unable to respect others of her kind. + +Vassilissa's comrades had accompanied her to the station. The children +of the community house had brought paper flowers they had made +themselves. And Vassilissa realized that she had not given her strength +and energy in vain. The seed was sown; something would grow. + +When the train began to roll out, the tears rose to her eyes. They were +waving their caps. Suddenly she loved them all so much. It was hard to +leave them. + +But hardly had the city dropped behind her, hardly had the wooded +strips and suburban settlements begun to approach her and then hasten +away, as if they were running a race, than Vassilissa forgot her +community house, the joys and sorrows of the winter. Swifter than the +train, her thoughts rushed far ahead to him for whom she longed. + +Why was Vassilissa so melancholy now? Whence the longing that had crept +into her heart? It was as if a cold vise were gripping her heart. +What was she longing for? Perhaps it was because with the community +house a piece of her life had dropped into the past, never to return, +had disappeared like those narrow fields that shone like amber in the +spring sun. + +She began to cry. Softly, imperceptibly. She wiped away her tears, and +felt relieved, as if the cold little lump of yearning that had tortured +her heart had dissipated together with the tears on the skirt of her +new dress. + +The lights were turned on in the car, the shades pulled down. It +suddenly became cozy, and her loneliness disappeared. + +Vassilissa's heart, not her mind, knew very clearly: two more nights +and then she would see Volodya, would see him, embrace him. She felt +his burning lips and strong arms, heard his voice. + +A sweet languor throbbed through her body, her eyes were laughing. If +it hadn't been for the Nep-girl, who was fussing before the mirror, +Vassilissa would have sung with joy. Loudly, as the birds sing of +spring. + +The Nep-girl was gone, the door banged. Stupid woman! Closing her eyes, +Vassilissa thought of Vladimir, her lover. Dreaming, she read page +after page of the story of their love. They had been in love for five +years. She could hardly believe it--five years. + +She felt as if they had met only yesterday. + +She settled down more comfortably in the corner of her compartment, her +feet drawn up, her eyes closed. The gentle rocking of the car relaxed +her entire body. Her thoughts, however, hurried on and on. + +The voice of memory. What was it like? Their first meeting? + +It was at an assembly, shortly before the October days. A time +of restlessness. They were only a handful of Bolsheviki--but how +they worked! The Mensheviki were in power, and the noisy Social +Revolutionaries. The Bolsheviki were attacked from all sides, people +almost used physical violence against them, the "German spies," the +"traitors." Yet the group increased from day to day. They did not know +themselves exactly what was to be, but they knew one thing: there +must be peace come what may, and the "patriots," the "traitors," must +be thrown out of the Soviets. This was certain, and they fought. +Obstinately, ardently, uncompromisingly, full of faith. An unspoken +resolve shone in the eyes of all: We will die, but never compromise. No +one thought of himself. Did anyone consider the individual then? + +Remembering this time, Vassilissa saw not herself, but only the group. +The Social-Revolutionary and Menshevik papers had printed some items +about her--pure fiction, lies, slander. But let them revile her. It +couldn't be otherwise. Anyway, people didn't read everything in the +papers. They simply believed that justice was on the side of the Party, +of the Bolsheviki. + +"Have you no pity for your mother? You're disgracing the entire family! +Getting mixed up with the Bolsheviki! You're selling your country to +the enemy!" wept the old woman. + +Unwilling to listen to such reprimands at home, Vassilissa went to live +with another girl. She could not sympathize with her mother's tears. +Strangers seemed closer to her. Only one goal stood clearly before her: +the victory of Bolshevism. She seemed to be urged on by some force. It +was impossible to stop. Though this force might hurl her into an abyss +she would go on nonetheless, would struggle. She would fight.... + +The controversy became more acute, the air more sultry. A storm was +inevitable. There was news from Petrograd. The resolutions of the +Congress. Trotzky's speeches. The proclamations of the Petrograd +Soviets. + +Then they met. The assembly was crowded, the hall was packed. People +were standing on the window sills, sitting on the floor in the aisles. +There was hardly room to breathe. What sort of meeting was it? +Vassilissa had forgotten. For the first time a Bolshevik was elected +chairman, and the committee, too, consisted of Bolsheviki and left-wing +Social Revolutionaries. Among them was an Anarchist, an Independent, +known in the city as "the American"--Vladimir. + +It was the first time she saw him. But she had heard much of him. Some +were delighted with him, and said: "He's a real man. He knows how to +make people listen to him." Others found fault with him. "A braggart." +But he had the union bakers and the commercial clerks behind him. +He had to be reckoned with. The Bolsheviki were glad when he scored +against the Mensheviki, and were angry when he said something against +them. What in the world did he want? + +The Party secretary couldn't endure him. "He's crazy, we're better off +without such friends." But Stephen Alexeyevitch, the most esteemed +Bolshevik of the city, laughed into his gray beard as he said: "Wait a +bit, be patient. He will yet become a splendid Bolshevik. He's anxious +to fight. Just wait until he's lost his American spleen." + +So Vassilissa had heard of him; but she paid no attention to him. So +many people would pop up without anyone's knowing the least thing about +them. It didn't pay to bother with them. She came late to the meeting, +all out of breath. She had been speaking at the "brick-yard." There +were meetings everywhere; it had to be so in those days. + +She was an orator then. People liked to listen to her. Her speaking +won general commendation because she was a woman, a working-girl. +Vassilissa spoke objectively, was neither wasteful nor sparing with +her words. She had mastered this manner of speaking, terse, but lucid. +She could hardly meet all the demands made on her. + +When she came to the meeting she went directly to the platform. It had +been announced that she would speak. Comrade Yurotchkin--he was dead +now, killed at the front--pulled her sleeve. "We've won! The Bolsheviki +won out in the election of the chairman. Two left-wing Social +Revolutionaries, and the American besides. He's almost a Bolshevik now. +He's going to speak in a minute." + +Vassilissa glanced at the American, and something about him surprised +her. So that is how an Anarchist looks! She would have thought him a +gentleman. He wore a stiff collar and a tie, and his hair was parted. A +handsome fellow. Long eye-lashes. His turn was just coming. He stepped +forward, cleared his throat, and held his hand before his mouth. Like a +gentleman, she thought, and could not help laughing. + +His voice was pleasant, engaging. He spoke for a long time, frequently +making his audience laugh. Vasya laughed, too. He was a smart fellow, +after all, the Anarchist. Vasya applauded. When he returned to the +speakers' table, he accidentally bumped against Vasya. When he turned +to apologize Vasya blushed. And, embarrassed at blushing, she colored +even more. It was annoying. But the Anarchist didn't notice it. He sat +down, leaned back carelessly in his chair, and smoked a cigarette. + +The chairman turned to him, pointed to the cigarette. "We're not +accustomed to smoking here." Shrugging his shoulders, Vladimir +continued to smoke. "I want to smoke, and I will. Your rules don't +apply to me." He took a few more whiffs, and, seeing that the chairman +was busy with something else, threw the cigarette away. + +Vasya had forgotten nothing of all this. Later she had teased Vladimir +about it. But at that time he had not yet noticed her. He became aware +of her only when she began to speak. + +She spoke very well that evening; and though he was behind her she felt +the American's eyes on her. She deliberately lauded the Bolsheviki +as opposed to the Mensheviki, the Social Revolutionaries, and the +Anarchists, although she didn't even know then what the Anarchists +were. She wanted to strike the American; he acted too much like a +gentleman. + +Vasya remembered how her hair came undone as she spoke. At that time +she had beautiful long hair, which she braided and wound about her +head. She was speaking with all her heart, passionately, and the pins +fell out of her hair. It was unpleasant, her hair was in her way, she +tossed it back. She didn't know that her hair had cast a spell over +Vladimir. + +"I didn't see you while you were speaking. But when your hair fell over +your shoulders I saw clearly that you were no orator, but Vasya, my +tomboy! A woman! And such a funny one. She was embarrassed, but held +her ground. She waved her arms, and abused the Anarchists, then her +hair came undone, curly little snakes were coiled on her back like +threads of gold. Then, Vasyuk, I realized that I would have to know +you." + +Vladimir told her that later, after they had fallen in love. But she +didn't know it at the meeting. After her speech was finished she began +to braid her hair. Yurotchkin picked up the hair-pins for her. + +"Thank you, Comrade." + +It was very embarrassing; everyone was staring at her. She was afraid +to look at the American. He had surely noticed, and had his own opinion +of her. Something or other annoyed her; she was angry at the American. +But why did she bother about him? + +The meeting was over. Everybody was going away. The American stood +before her. + +"May I introduce myself?" He told her his name and explained who he +was. He pressed her hand; praised her speech. And again Vasya flushed. +They began to talk, to argue. She was for the Bolsheviki, he in favor +of the Anarchists. Going with the crowd, they reached the street. It +was a rainy and windy night. + +A cab belonging to the Party was waiting. The American suggested that +he take Vasya home. She agreed, and they climbed into the cab. It was +dark in there, and the cab was narrow. They sat close together. The +horse shied, and splashed in the mud-puddles with its hoofs. + +Vassilissa and Vladimir stopped disputing, sat there quiet and silent. +Both grave and yet happy. + +They talked about trifles, about the rain, about the meeting that would +take place the next day in the soap works, about the assembly at Party +Headquarters. But their hearts were full of gladness. + +They were at Vasya's house, and bid each other good-night. Both were +sorry that they had to part so soon, but neither said so. + +"Are you sure your feet didn't get wet?" Vladimir asked anxiously. + +"My feet?" Vasya was amazed, but happy about something. For the first +time in her life someone had thought of her, had been concerned about +her. And Vasya laughed, her regular white teeth shining. Vladimir would +have liked to take her into his arms then, to kiss those moist, white, +regular teeth. + +The door opened; the watchman let Vasya into the house. + +"Good-bye until tomorrow, at headquarters. Don't forget. The meeting +opens at two sharp. We do things in the American way." + +Vladimir raised his soft hat, and took his leave with a profound bow. +Vasya turned in the doorway as if she were expecting something more. + +The door banged, Vasya was alone in the dark little court. And suddenly +the happy mood was gone. Her heart was uneasy, sick with longing. +Something grieved her; something hurt her. + +She seemed so small to herself. So useless. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + +Vasya was sitting in the car, her head pillowed on her woolen shawl. +She was not sleeping, but she saw the past as in a dream, as in a +moving picture: reel after reel, scene after scene, joy and misery, all +her life with Vladimir, with Volodya. Beautiful memories. And as she +remembered them even her sorrows seemed pleasant. She settled down more +comfortably. The car rocked soothingly, luxuriously. + +In her mind's eye, Vassilissa saw the meeting of the union, a noisy, +shouting, restless assembly. The bakers were an obstreperous, +stiff-necked, unruly crowd. Vladimir was in the chair; he alone knew +how to manage them. It was difficult, but finally he succeeded. The +veins of his forehead were swollen with the effort, but he had carried +his point. He hadn't noticed Vasya's coming. She sat modestly beside +the wall, and watched. + +It was resolved to present the government with a vote of lack of +confidence, and to put the union in the hands of the workers. An +administrative committee of their own was elected immediately. +Shareholders, members of the municipal Duma, and _burshui_ were struck +off the list, and their contributions cancelled. Thenceforth the union +would no longer be a municipal affair, but would belong only to the +bakers and the employees of the union. + +But the Mensheviki were not to be caught napping. They sent their +confidential agents to notify the proper parties. + +The assembly was beginning to disperse, only the administrative +committee was remaining for a meeting, when suddenly, to everybody's +consternation, there appeared in the doorway the Menshevik Commissar, +the highest authority in the city, a follower of Kerensky. Behind him +the leaders of the Mensheviki and the Social Revolutionaries. When +Vladimir saw them his eyes twinkled craftily. + +"Comrades, the meeting is adjourned. Only the administrative committee +of the Revolutionary Bakers' Union will remain for a session. Tomorrow +there will be a general meeting to discuss current affairs. Now, +everybody go home!" + +Vladimir's voice resounded, calm and resolute. The audience rose +noisily. + +"Stop, Comrades, stop!" came the irate voice of the Commissar. "I beg +you not to adjourn the meeting." + +"The Commissar is too late. The meeting has already been adjourned. +But if you wish to acquaint yourself with our resolutions, you are +welcome to them. Here they are. We had intended to send a delegation +to you. But now you have come in person. So much the better. This is +as it should be in times of revolution. It's high time for the people +to learn that it is not the duty of the organizations to run to the +government officials with their reports, but that the officials must +come to the workers' organizations for their news." + +Vladimir stood there unmoved, gathered up his papers, and in his eyes, +under the long lashes, the little devils were laughing and dancing. + +"He's right! He's right!" cried the crowd. Many laughed. The Commissar +attempted to protest. He went up to Vladimir, became excited, and +shouted. Vladimir remained entirely calm, only his eyes laughed; his +voice was loud and clear. His answer to the Commissar was audible +throughout the hall. The public laughed and applauded. They were +delighted to hear Vladimir invite the Commissar to a supper where +the passage of the union from the _burshuis_ to the bakers would be +celebrated. + +"A smart fellow, this American. He has a tongue in his head." + +The Commissar had to leave without accomplishing his purpose. He +threatened to use force. + +"Just you try it," cried Vladimir, his eyes flashing. And the entire +hall repeated. "Just you try it! Try it!" The atmosphere became +threatening. The Commissar and his Mensheviki beat a hasty retreat +through a side door. + +But the tumult in the hall continued. The administrative session +was postponed for the evening. People had to eat first. They were +exhausted, for the meeting had been going on since morning. + +Vasya went toward the door, with the crowd. + +Suddenly Vladimir stood before her. Calm, his eyes laughing. How +different he seemed from the others in his neat blue suit. But now she +no longer saw him as a "gentleman." Today she had felt: "He belongs to +us." After all, how did he differ from a Bolshevik? And he was brave, +afraid of nothing. He would face bullets if necessary, in spite of his +stiff collar. Suddenly there rose in Vasya not merely the thought, but +the desire to lay her hand trustingly into Vladimir's strong hand. +She would like to go through life with him, side by side, happily and +confidently. But what was she to a man like Vladimir? Comparing herself +to him, Vasya sighed. He was handsome, had seen much, had been in +America. + +And she? Not much to look at, ignorant; and she had never been outside +her province. How could he pay any attention to her! He hadn't noticed +her today either. + +However, Vasya had hardly formulated these thoughts when she heard +Vladimir's voice beside her: "Delighted to see you, Comrade Vassilissa. +Didn't we put that Commissar's nose out of joint, though? He won't try +these tricks again. He'll never come back here. You can bank on that. +Besides, we tell him of our resolutions merely as a matter of form." + +Vladimir was excited, enthusiastic. Vasya caught his spirit. They began +to talk, both laughed and were happy. + +If his comrades hadn't come for Vladimir they would have stayed much +longer in the ante-room, talking of the Commissar and the resolutions. + +"Well, I must go now, I can't stay any longer, Comrade Vassilissa." +Vasya heard regret in his voice. Her heart beat joyfully; she raised +her tenderly observant eyes to his. Vasya's soul was mirrored in her +eyes. + +Vladimir looked into them. Silently, as though he were lost in them. + +"Why don't you come, Comrade Vladimir? Don't keep the people waiting. +We're up to our ears in work." + +"I'm coming." + +Hastily he pressed her hand, and left. + +Vasya wandered through the city, not knowing where she was going, +seeing neither streets nor people, only Vladimir. + +This was something new for her. + + * * * * * + +A clear, frosty winter's night. Stars, countless stars, twinkling in +the sky. The freshly fallen snow still white and spotless. It covered +the streets, had settled down on the roofs and barns, had bespangled +the trees with its loose flakes. + +Vassilissa and Vladimir were coming from a meeting. The "October Days" +had come and gone. Now the power was in the hands of the Soviets. +The Mensheviki and the right-wing Social Revolutionaries had been +dislodged. Only the "internationalists" remained. The power of the +Bolsheviki was growing. The Party ruled over all. All the workers +were for the Bolsheviki. Only the _burshuis_, the popes and the army +officers opposed them. The Soviet was waging a campaign against them. +Life had not yet taken its proper course, the waves of the Revolution +had not yet calmed down. The streets were patrolled by Red Guards; +there were occasional clashes. But the worst seemed over. + +Vassilissa and Vladimir were talking of the days when they had seized +the power. Vladimir's bakers had stood in the gap then. Fine, resolute +fellows. Vladimir was proud of them. And they had put him in the Soviet. + +Vladimir and Vassilissa were walking side by side, through the quiet +streets. The Red Guard patrols demanded the password. Vladimir, too, +had a narrow red band on his sleeve. He was wearing a fur cap; he had +enlisted in the Workers' Guard, and had been under fire. A bullet had +passed through one of his cuffs; he showed it to Vasya. Though they had +seen each other a good deal during this time, they had never had a +chance to talk. There was no time for that. + +That day, however, they had gone out together, without any previous +arrangement. They had so much to tell each other; they felt as if they +were old friends meeting again to talk things over. Yet, suddenly, both +were silent. They felt closer to each other. They had gone past Vasya's +house without noticing it; they had reached the end of the suburb, +where the truck gardens began. Where in the world had they landed! +Stopping, they laughed in amazement. They looked up to the sky, where +the stars were twinkling and sparkling. + +"We had no clocks in our village, so we had to tell time by the stars. +My father knew them particularly well. He could always tell exactly +what time it was." + +Vladimir spoke of his childhood. They had been a large family in a poor +peasant's household. There was too little of everything. Volodya wanted +to go to school, but it was too far away. So he made a bargain with the +pope's daughter. He watched her geese, and she taught him to read. + +Vladimir recalled his village, the fields and woods of his home. He +grew tender and melancholy. + +"So that is what he's like." Vassilissa was surprised. + +And he became even dearer to her. + +He told her about America, how he had come there as a boy, having +resolved to make his own way in the world. After spending two years +on board a transport, he had worked in the dockyards. Finally he was +driven away, forced to go to another state. He was starving, took +any work he could get. For a time he was a waiter in a great palatial +hotel. How many rich people he did see there! And as for the women! All +dressed up in silks, and laces and diamonds. + +Then he was a porter in a large fashionable store, where he was well +paid. He wore a gallooned uniform; and he was liked because of his good +figure. But he soon became sick of it. All these wealthy customers +got on his nerves. He tried being a chauffeur, traveled through +America with a rich cotton dealer, covered hundreds of miles in an +elegant auto. However, this too became tiresome. After all, he was +little better than a serf. The merchant introduced him into the cotton +business, where he became a salesman, and learned bookkeeping. + +And then--the Revolution. Dropping everything, he hurried back to +Russia. He had belonged to the organization even in America. He had +been arrested once after a clash with the police. But the cotton +merchant had come to his aid, for he liked him as a chauffeur, and held +him in esteem although he knew him to be an Anarchist. He always shook +hands with him, too. America was different from Russia! + +Vladimir loved America in his way. + +On and on they went, through the streets. Vasya listened; Vladimir's +flow of words was inexhaustible. He seemed to be confessing his entire +life to her. Again they reached the door of Vasya's house. + +"Won't you invite me in for a glass of tea, Comrade Vassilissa?" asked +Vladimir. "I'm parched with thirst. And I really don't want to sleep +yet." + +Vasya was doubtful. Her friend surely was in bed by this time. + +"That doesn't make any difference. We'll wake her up. The three of us +will have a real party." + +And why shouldn't she ask the American to come in? She didn't want him +to go away, for they had become friends. + +They went in, put up the samovar, Vladimir helping. + +"One must always help the ladies. That's what we do in America." + +They lingered over their tea, joking, teasing Vasya's friend, whom they +had pulled out of bed, because she blinked her eyes so sleepily. + +And again Vladimir talked about America, about the beautiful +silk-stockinged ladies who came up in their autos to the great store +before which he stood in his gallooned doorman's uniform, with a +feather in his three-cornered hat. One of them had slipped him a note, +fixing a rendezvous. But he didn't go. He didn't care for women. They +could only cause trouble. Another had given him a rose.... + +Listening to Vladimir's stories of the beautiful American women with +their silk stockings, Vasya felt more and more insignificant and +unattractive. + +The joy in her heart died, and the world seemed dark. + +"And I suppose you fell in love with these beauties?" + +Vasya's voice sounded hollow. She was chagrined at having let the +question slip out. + +Vladimir looked at her attentively and tenderly. He shook his head. + +"All my life, Vassilissa Dementyevna, I have guarded my heart and my +love. I am keeping them for a pure girl. But these fine ladies? They're +much too fast, all of them. Worse than prostitutes." + +And again joy flooded her heart, only to ebb again without filling +it. He was keeping his heart for a pure girl? But Vasya was no longer +undefiled. She had had an affair with Petya Razgulov, of the machine +department, until he went to the front. Then there had been the Party +organizer; she had said she was engaged to him. He, too, had gone away, +had stopped writing. And she forgot him. But what to do now? Only a +"pure girl"? + +Vasya was looking at Vladimir, was listening to his voice, but she did +not hear what he was saying. Her heart was aching so. Vladimir thought +she was bored with his stories. + +He stopped talking, and rose. Hastily, coldly he took his leave. + +Vasya struggled against her tears. She wanted so to throw herself into +his arms. But he didn't need her! He had seen so many beautiful women. +And he was keeping his heart for a "pure girl." + +Vasya cried all night. She determined to avoid this American. What +could she mean to him? + +Vasya had firmly made up her mind to keep out of the American's way, +but Fate had decided to bring them even closer. + +Coming to a Committee meeting one day, Vassilissa found a violent +dispute in progress. A new City Commandant was to be appointed. Some +proposed Vladimir, others refused to consider him. The Secretary of the +Partcom was especially antagonistic. It was not to be thought of. The +entire city was up in arms against the American. His _papacha_ pushed +to the back of his head, he rode about the town in the union cab, as +though he were a governor. He irritated the people; he recognized no +discipline. Fresh complaints had come in about him. He didn't follow +union regulations. + +Vasya defended Vladimir. It hurt her to hear him spoken of in that way, +to hear him called an Anarchist. Stupid, this suspicion. Didn't he do +better work than the Bolsheviki? Stepan Alexeyevitch also was in favor +of Vladimir. The vote was cast. + +Seven against Vladimir, six for him. Well, there was nothing to be +done. After all, Vladimir was a bit to blame too. He tried to show off +too much. + +But Vladimir was angry. Why didn't they trust him? Wasn't he with +the Revolution with all his heart and soul? When he learned of the +Committee's vote he became furious. He deliberately began to insult the +Bolsheviki. + +"Partisans of the state! Centralists! They want to institute another +police régime!" + +He spoke of America, mentioned his I. W. W. wherever he could. The +Committee grew excited, and demanded that Vladimir comply with the +regulations. The breach widened from day to day. Vasya worked hard in +Vladimir's defense, disputed till she was hoarse. + +The matter was brought before the Soviet. The union had again failed to +follow orders. + +Vladimir, however, repeated over and over: "I don't recognize your +police ordinances. Every institution is its own master. Discipline? I +don't give a damn for your discipline. We didn't make the Revolution, +shed blood, drive out the _burshuis_ to let ourselves be chained again. +Why do we need Commandants? We can command ourselves!" + +Wrangling, shouting. + +"If you refuse to submit we will expel you from the Soviet," threatened +the presiding officer. + +"Just you try it!" yelled Vladimir, his eyes flaming. "I'll recall all +my bakers' boys from the militia. Who'll defend you then? Soon you'll +be in the hands of the _burshuis_ again. And that's where your Soviet's +heading! It's no Soviet--it's a police district!" + +Vassilissa's heart missed a beat. Why had he said that? Now all of +them would pounce upon him. She was right. The meeting stormed with +indignation. What? He had called the Soviets names? Vladimir stood +there, white-faced, defending himself. But there was a tempest round +about him. People were pushing forward. + +"Expel him. Arrest him. Throw him out. The blackguard!" + +Thanks, Stepan Alexeyevitch. He helped him. He asked Vladimir to go +into the next room. The Soviet would discuss the incident in his +absence. + +Vladimir went, and Vasya followed. She felt mortified. It had been so +stupid of him. And she was angry at the Soviets, too. How could they +condemn a man for his words? They should judge by his deeds. Everybody +knew that Vladimir was on the side of the Soviet. If not for him the +Bolsheviki might not have come out ahead in the October Revolution. It +was he who had disarmed the officers. It was he who had forced the head +of the city to flee, who had led the most obstinate of his opponents +out into the street. There, shovel the snow! Why was he to be expelled +from the Soviet? Because of a hasty word? + +Greatly perturbed, Vasya went into the back room. Vladimir was sitting +at the table, brooding, leaning his head on his hand. + +As he looked up at her she saw pain, chagrin and distress in his eyes. +Suddenly he seemed small and helpless as a child. + +Vassilissa's heart filled with compassion. She would do anything to +spare him suffering. + +"Well, are the 'partisans of the state' alarmed?" Vladimir asked +pretentiously. "Did I frighten them with my threats? Things have not +yet reached such a pass...." He stopped short. + +Vasya looked at him affectionately. There was reproach in her gaze. + +"You are in the wrong, Vladimir Ivanovitch. You're harming yourself. +Why did you say that? Now it looks as though you were against the +Soviet." + +"And I will be against it, if the Soviet is to be another police +department." Vladimir still was stubborn. + +"Why do you say something you don't believe yourself?" Vasya came very +close to him, looked at him like a mother, gravely, tenderly. Raising +his eyes to hers, Vladimir was silent. + +"Admit that you lost your temper." + +Vladimir bowed his head. + +"I couldn't keep it back. I was furious." + +And again he looked into Vasya's eyes, like a boy confessing a fault to +his mother. + +"Nothing to be done about it now. It's all over." + +He motioned her away. But Vasya came even closer to him. Her heart was +full of sorrow and tenderness. He had become so dear to her. She laid +her hand on his head, stroked it. + +"Don't, Vladimir Ivanovitch! Why do you lose heart? Aren't you an +Anarchist? That's not the way, Vladimir! You must believe in yourself, +mustn't let others bother you." + +Vasya was bending over Vladimir, stroking his head as if he were a +little boy. And he leaned his head trustingly on her heart, as though +he sought support in her. So big, and yet as woebegone as a child. + +"I'm having such a hard time. I thought the Revolution, the +Comrades--everything would change." + +"And it will. But you must try doing things in a friendly, brotherly +way." + +"No; good will won't help now. I don't know how to deal with people." + +"You'll learn. I'm sure you will." + +Vasya raised Vladimir's head and looked in his eyes. His gaze, however, +was anxious and troubled. Bending down, Vasya gently kissed his hair. + +"We'll have to straighten out this matter. You'll have to apologize, +say that you were hasty, that they misunderstood you." + +"All right," Vladimir agreed obediently, seeking support in her eyes. +Suddenly he threw his arms about her, crushed her to his heart until it +hurt. And his burning lips clung to Vasya's mouth. + +Vasya ran back to the platform, to the executive committee, directly to +Stepan Alexeyevitch. Matters stood thus and thus. Vladimir Ivanovitch +had to be helped out of the mess. + +The incident was closed. + +But the hostile attitude against Vladimir did not disappear. The Soviet +was divided into two camps. The happy days of peace were over. + + * * * * * + +Vasya didn't want to remember more. But her thoughts flew on. There was +no stopping them. + +How had they come together? It was soon after the episode in the Soviet. + +Vladimir was escorting her home. They always left together in those +days. They were seeking each other. When they were alone their +conversation was tenderly intimate. + +Vasya's friend was out. And Vladimir, taking Vasya into his arms, +kissed her ardently, passionately. She still remembered those kisses. +But she released herself, stepped back, and looked him straight in the +eyes. + +"Volodya, you mustn't kiss me. I won't stand for any deception." + +Amazed, he failed to understand. + +"Deception? Do you think I want to deceive you? Can't you see that I've +loved you ever since I've known you?" + +"That's not it! That's not it, Volodya! Of course, I believe you. But, +you see, I ... I ... No, don't kiss me. You're keeping your heart for a +'pure girl.' And I'm not a virgin any more, Volodya. I've had lovers." + +As she spoke she thought, trembling: Now, my happiness is shattered. + +Vladimir interrupted her. "What do I care for your lovers? You belong +to me. No one can be purer than you, Vasya; your soul is pure." + +Passionately, he pressed her to him. + +"You love me, Vasya, don't you? Don't you love me? Don't you belong +to me? To me? And to no one else. And look here--don't you ever again +mention your lovers. Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know +anything. I don't want to. You belong to me, and that's the end of it." + +This was the beginning of their union. + + + + + MENAGE + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + +The compartment was dark. The Nep-girl had gone to bed, after perfuming +the entire car with Eau de Cologne. Vassilissa was lying quietly in +her upper berth. If only she could fall asleep. But memories of the +past insisted upon coming up. As if she were settling her accounts. But +why settle them? All her life was still before her. Love and happiness +awaited her. Yet somewhere, in an obscure corner of her heart, Vasya +felt that things weren't as they used to be. The happiness of four +years ago was gone. Their love had changed, and Vassilissa, too, was +different. + +Why? Whose fault was it? + +Her hands folded beneath her head, Vassilissa lay there, thinking. +In all these years she had never had time to think. She had lived +and worked. But now she had a feeling of having forgotten or +neglected something. Why? Dissension within the Party; trouble in the +institutions. + +Everything had been different then. Volodya, too, had been different. +True, she had had her hands full with him. He would fall out with the +authorities. But Vasya always was able to reason with him. He trusted +her, and always followed her advice. + +The Whites commenced their offensive; the city was in danger. Vladimir +decided to enlist for the front. And Vasya did not hold him back. +She only tried to persuade him to join the Party before he left. He +resisted at first. But finally gave in. + +Thus he became a Bolshevik, and went away. + +They corresponded very little. Now and then he would come back for a +day or two. And then more weeks and months of separation. As if it had +to be so. They didn't even miss each other very much--there was no time +for such things. Then Vasya learned, at a Committee meeting, that a +charge was being pressed against Vladimir. What could that mean? He was +working for the artillery, and they said he wasn't managing his affairs +properly, that he wasn't entirely straight and aboveboard. + +Vasya flared up. That wasn't true. She didn't believe it. It was a +conspiracy, or slanderous gossip. + +She rushed out to find out more. It seemed a serious affair. The case +had not yet been brought into court, but he had been removed from his +post. She begged Stepan Alexeyevitch to bring about her transfer to a +transport train bearing gifts to the front. And in three days she was +on her way. + +It was very hard to get through. Delays everywhere. The trains +missed one another. There was something wrong with the papers. The +gift-bearing car wasn't coupled on. She was exhausted and worried. The +case might already have come to court. + +Only then did Vasya realize how she loved Vladimir, how much he meant +to her. And she trusted him, as much as it was possible to trust +anyone. The more others suspected him, for they felt that an Anarchist +was capable of anything, the more vigorously she defended him. No one +knew his heart as well as she, Vasya. And his heart was tender as a +woman's. His harshness and obstinacy were only on the surface. Vasya +knew that kindness and gentleness could always lead him on the right +path. + +But it was true that he had become embittered. The life of the +proletarians was hard. + +Finally Vassilissa reached headquarters, where, after much difficulty, +she learned where Vladimir lived. She was forced to walk all the way +across the town, in a pouring rain. It was a good thing that a Comrade +went with her. She was tired, shivering with the cold. But she was +glad, for now she knew that the investigation was not yet over. There +was no evidence; opinions varied within the army itself. Rumors and +denunciations were current. Vasya was confused only by the disagreeable +smile with which people looked at her, by their air of hiding something +when she openly called herself his wife. She had to try to understand +everything. And then she would have to go to Comrade Toporkoff, of the +Central Administration. He knew Vladimir and his work. This prosecution +would have to stop. Why did they harass him? Others, too, had once been +Mensheviki or Social Revolutionaries, but no one hounded them. Why was +an Anarchist worse than they? + +They reached the little wooden house where Vladimir lived. The windows +were lighted, but the door was locked. The Comrade knocked. No answer. +Vasya's feet were soaked to the ankle; her clothes were wet, and she +was cold. She was thinking not of the joy of seeing Vladimir again, but +only of getting into the warm room as soon as possible to change her +dress and stockings. She had been sitting in the heated baggage car for +five days, had had practically no sleep. + +"Let's knock on the window," suggested the Comrade. + +He broke off a birch rod, tapped on the window with it. + +Someone pulled back the curtain, and Vasya saw Volodya's head. He +seemed to be wearing only a shirt. As he strained his eyes to see in +the dark, a woman's head bobbed up from behind his shoulder, only to +disappear again. + +Vasya felt her heart sinking. A sharp, sickening pain. + +"Why don't you open the door, Comrade? I've brought you your wife." + +The curtain was drawn, hiding Volodya and the woman. Vasya and her +companion mounted the steps leading to the door. They waited. Why did +it take so long? To Vasya the time seemed endless. + +At last the door opened. Vladimir took Vasya in his arms, pressing her +to him and kissing her. His face was radiant, his eyes wet with tears. + +"You came! You came to me! My friend, Vasya! My comrade!" + +"Take her things, at least," grumbled her escort. "What'll I do with +them?" + +"Come right into the house! We'll have some supper. You must be soaked +through and freezing." + +They entered the house. It was bright and clean. A dining room, with a +bedroom behind it. At the dining room table sat a nurse with a white +kerchief about her neck and a red badge on her sleeve. She was pretty. +Vasya felt another stab at her heart. Volodya introduced the two. + +"This is Sister Barbara. My wife, Vassilissa Dementyevna." + +They shook hands and looked at each other searchingly, as if each +wanted to sound the other. + +"What's the matter, Vasya? Take off your wraps. Aren't you the lady of +this house? See how well I live here. Better than in your little room. +Let me have your coat. How wet it is. We must hang it up next to the +stove." + +The nurse had remained standing. + +"Well, Vladimir Ivanovitch, we'll let our business discussions go until +tomorrow. I don't want to disturb your domestic bliss tonight." + +She shook hands with Vasya and Vladimir, and went out together with +Vasya's escort. + +Vladimir picked up Vasya and carried her about the room. He fondled +her, kissed her, was beside himself with joy. + +Vasya's heart felt less heavy, and she was ashamed of herself. Still +she asked, casually, between kisses: "Who was that nurse?" And she bent +back her head the better to look into Vladimir's eyes. + +"The nurse? She came to see me about the provisioning of the hospital. +Deliveries must be made more quickly. There are delays along the line. +They can't get along without me, though they made me stop my work. As +soon as something goes wrong, they come to me." + +He turned the conversation to the charges against him, spoke of the +thing that worried them both. He set Vasya down, and they went into the +bedroom. Once more Vasya felt that stab. The bed was untidily made, as +if someone had hurriedly thrown the covers over it. + +She glanced at Vladimir. Placing his hands on his back, a gesture Vasya +knew and loved, he paced up and down the room. He told her of his case, +what had happened, how it had begun. + +Listening, Vasya suffered for him. She felt clearly that it was all +envious gossip. Her Volodya's hands were clean. She was convinced of +that; it could not be otherwise. + +She took a pair of stockings from her suit-case. But she had no other +shoes. What to do? + +Vladimir noticed it. + +"That's how you are! You haven't even an extra pair of shoes. Of course +I can get some leather, and our cobbler will make a pair for you, as a +special favor. But now let me take off your shoes. How wet they are." + +He drew off her shoes, threw Vasya's wet stockings on the floor, took +her cold feet into his warm hands. + +"What tiny feet you have. Like a doll. Oh, Vasyuk mine, my darling." +Bending down, he kissed her feet. + +"What are you doing, Volodyka? You silly boy." She laughed; her heart +was joyful again. + + * * * * * + +They drank tea, talked and held council. Vladimir told her everything. +How he had been rude at the wrong time, how he had disregarded +instructions and had done things his own way. He couldn't stand orders. +He told her of the times when he had furthered the cause, and of the +"undesirables" he had employed. But as for being light-fingered, Vasya +surely could not believe that of him. Vladimir stood before her, +choking with rage. + +"So you, too, could think that of me? You, Vasya?" + +"No, no, Volodya. I was only afraid that your accounts might be a bit +muddled. They're so strict nowadays." + +"You needn't worry about my accounts. Those who started this business +will find their finish in it. My accounts are clear as crystal. The +bookkeeping I learned in America has come in handy." + +Vassilissa felt a load off her heart. All that was necessary now was to +meet the Comrades, consult with them, and explain the how, when, and +where. + +"It was so clever of you to come here," said Vladimir. "I didn't dare +expect you. I know how hard you work, and assumed you'd be too busy for +your husband, for your Volodyka." + +"Why, don't you know that I have no peace when you're not with me? +I'm always worrying: what's he doing? How does he feel? Has anything +happened to him?" + +"You're my guardian angel, Vasya. I know that." He spoke very gravely, +and kissed Vasya. His eyes became sad and thoughtful. "I'm not worthy +of you, Vasya. I love only you. I love you above all things. You +believe me, don't you? I love you, love you. No one but you. Anything +else is absurd...." + +Here Vasya didn't understand him. His unusual vehemence, his agitation +puzzled her. + +They went into the bedroom. It was time to go to sleep. Intending to +make the bed, Vasya threw back the covers. What was that? Her temples +pounded, her knees trembled. A woman's bandage--a blood-stain on the +sheet. + +"Volodya! What's that?" Her voice faltered. She moaned. + +Vladimir rushed to the bed, savagely threw the bandage to the floor. + +"That hussy, that landlady of mine. She lay down here again when I was +out. Soiled the bed." He threw the sheets on the floor. + +"Vladimir." + +Wide-eyed, Vasya stood before him. Her look said everything. + +Vladimir gazed at her and remained silent. + +"Why that, Volodya? Why?" + +Wringing his hands, Volodya threw himself on the bed. + +"It's all over. It's all over. But I swear to you, Vasya, I love only +you, only you." + +"Why did you do it? Why didn't you think of our love?" + +"I'm young, Vasya. All alone for months. And they're forever running +after you, these common hussies. I hate them all. All of them. These +filthy women." + +He stretched out his arms toward her. Tears were rolling down his +cheeks, large, burning tears. + +"You must understand, Vasya. You must. Or I can't live. You must pity +me. Life is so hard." + +Vasya bent down and kissed his head, as in the Soviet, long before. And +again she pitied him, again she was filled with compassion for this +big, helpless, childlike man. Who would understand him if not she? +Even now everyone was ready to throw stones at him. Should she really +drop him because he had hurt her? Had she not once been ready to bear +the brunt of every blow destined for him? A poor thing, her love, if +she would leave him the first time he had made her suffer. + +Bending over Vladimir, Vasya silently stroked his hair, seeking a way +out. + +Someone knocked at the door, a harsh, commanding knock. What was that? + +They exchanged a glance, and both understood. A hurried embrace, a +passionate kiss, and they went into the hall. They had guessed right. + +The investigation had been closed, and Vladimir was arrested. The +ground seemed to be trembling beneath Vasya's feet. + +Vladimir remained calm. He collected his things, told Vasya where +to find his papers, whom to summon as witnesses, who could give her +information. Then they took him away. + +That was years ago, but Vasya would never forget that night. She had +never lived through anything more dreadful than that night. + +Her heart was racked with twofold pain. The century-old, insurmountable +suffering of woman, and the distress of the friend, the comrade, at the +wrong done her beloved, at the malevolence of men, at the injustice of +the world. + +Vasya walked about the bedroom as though she were mad. She could not +rest. + +Here, before she came, in this room, on this bed Vladimir had loved, +kissed, embraced the other woman. That pretty woman with the full lips +and the voluptuous bosom. Might he not love her? Might he not have lied +to Vassilissa, out of pity? + +She wanted the truth, the truth only. Why had they taken away +Vladimir just then? If only he had been there she would have found +out everything, would have asked him. If only he had been there, she +would have freed herself of her own agonizing thoughts, would have been +consumed with pity for him. + +Her woman's heart was aching. And she grew furious at Vladimir. How had +he dared do such a thing? He would never have taken another woman if he +had loved her. And if he didn't love her, he should have told her so +frankly, instead of torturing her with his lies. + +Vassilissa paced from one corner to the other. She could not rest. + +And suddenly a new thought pierced her heart. Suppose the charges +against Vladimir really were to be taken seriously? Suppose there +really was a reason for his arrest? Suppose the "undesirables," the +scoundrels, had got him into trouble, leaving the entire responsibility +on his shoulders? + +Her heartache was forgotten, forgotten the red-lipped nurse. Now +she was only trembling with an agonizing fear for Vladimir, racked +and crushed by her suffering for him. They had robbed him of his +reputation, had ruthlessly arrested him. Those were his Comrades. + +Compared to that, what was her feminine grief? What had they done to +her beloved Vladimir--his own Comrades? She felt hurt not at his having +been with the woman, but at the failure of even the Revolution to bring +an era of truth and justice. + +Vassilissa forgot her weariness as if her body had disappeared. Only +her soul remained, her heart, torn by the sharp claws of her harrowing +thoughts. She waited for the morning, and with the morning came the +resolve to fight for Vladimir. They should not touch him. She would +liberate him from those envy-filled schemers. Single-handed she would +convince everyone that he was stainless. Their slanders were false, +false their libelous attacks on his good name. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + +Early that morning a Red Guard brought her a note from Volodya. + +"Vasya, my wife, my beloved comrade. I don't care about the case +against me now. Let them ruin me. Only one thought torments me, maddens +me--that I might lose you. I can't live without you, Vasya. You must +know that. If you no longer love me, make no efforts in my behalf. Let +them shoot me. Yours, only yours----Volodya." + +And on the side, diagonally, "I love only you. Whether you believe me +or not. And I will insist on it until I die." + +Another sentence, in a corner, "I've never reproached you with your +past. Try to understand and forgive me now. Yours, with all my heart +and soul." + +Vasya read the note over and over, and felt happier. He was right. He +had never reproached her that she had not been a virgin. + +After all, men were like that. What could he do when that hussy threw +herself on his neck? Act like a monk? + +She read the note again, kissed it, folded it carefully, and put it in +her pocket. And now to get busy, to get Volodya out of trouble. + +She wore herself out, rushing from pillar to post, growing excited, +running afoul of bureaucracy and the indifference of men, giving up, +losing all hope. Then, summoning all her strength, she began to fight +with renewed courage. She would not permit the triumph of the wrong, +she would not let those scheming slanderers worst Volodya. + +She gained her most important point. Comrade Toporkov took the matter +in his own hands. And after looking into it he made the following +decision: "As the charges are groundless, the case is to be dropped. +Zviridov and Malitchenko are to be arrested." + +The next morning Vasya could not leave her bed. She had contracted +typhus. In the evening she recognized no one, not even Volodya, when he +returned. + +In her memory Vasya's illness seemed a dull dream. It was night when +she regained consciousness. She looked about. An unfamiliar room, +medicine bottles on the table, a nurse with a white neckerchief sitting +beside her bed. Wiry, no longer young, a severe expression on her face. +As Vasya looked at her, it bothered her to see a nurse sitting there. +The white kerchief irritated her. Why? She hardly knew herself. + +"Would you like a drink?" Leaning forward, the nurse held a glass to +her lips. + +Vasya drank, and lost consciousness again. Vaguely, as in a dream, she +felt Volodya bending over her and adjusting her pillow. She became +entirely unconscious. She had a dream; perhaps it was real? There were +two shadows in the room; no, not shadows--women, but not real women. +One white, one gray. Turning, twisting, their arms entwining. Not a +dance, but a struggle. And now Vasya understood. Life and Death had +come to her, were fighting for her. Which would win? + +Vasya was frightened, so frightened that she wanted to scream. But she +could not utter a sound. This frightened her even more. Her heart beat, +pounded, as though it would burst any moment. Ping. Ping. Ping. There +was shooting on the street. + +She opened her eyes. In the feeble light of the night-lamp she saw that +she was alone. It was night. She listened. A scratching--mice--as if +they were rolling something under the floor. Ever nearer, ever closer. +And now Vasya was torn by a new fear. She felt that the mice were +trying to get on her bed, on her. And she would not be able to drive +them away. + +Beginning to cry, she called feebly: "Volodya. Volodya. Volodya." + +"Vasya darling. My little sweetheart. What's the matter?" + +Volodya was bending over her, anxiously peering into her eyes. + +"Volodya, are you alive? Really?" Her strengthless hand felt about +Volodya's head. + +"I'm alive. We're both alive, my dearest. Why are you crying? What's +the matter with my Vasyuk? Were you dreaming? Are you delirious again?" + +Tenderly he kissed her hands and stroked her damp short hair. + +"No, no, I wasn't dreaming. The mice were scratching so...." she +defended herself, with a faint smile. + +"The mice?" Volodya laughed. "My Vasyuk has become so brave that it's +afraid of mice! I told the nurse that you shouldn't be left alone. It's +a good thing I came home just now." + +Vasya would have liked to ask him where he had been. But she was so +weak that she couldn't talk. A delicious weakness, however, a sort of +drowsiness. And the nicest part of it all was his sitting beside her. +She held his hand in her feeble grasp, would not let go. + +Her smiling lips whispered: "He's alive." + +"Of course, I'm alive," laughed Vladimir. Gently he kissed her forehead. + +Vasya opened her eyes. "But what happened to my hair? Did they cut it +off?" + +"That's nothing. Don't worry about that. Now you're a real boy, a real +Vasyuk." + +Vasya smiled. She was happy. + +Volodya did not leave her. As she dozed he sat on the chair beside her +and watched over her sleep. + +"Sleep, Vasya, sleep. You musn't look at me with your big eyes. You'll +have plenty of time to look at me when you're well again. If you don't +sleep now you'll be sick again, and the doctor'll scold me. He'll tell +me I'm a poor nurse." + +"You won't go away?" + +"Where would I go? I sleep here every night, on the floor beside you. +I'm less worried when I'm able to see you. In the daytime I'm working +hard." + +"Working? In the commissariat?" + +"Yes, indeed. Everything's all right again. Those rogues have been +arrested. But you're not to talk, you impossible Vasyuk. Sleep. If you +don't go to sleep, I'll go away." + +Her helpless fingers tightened their hold on his hand. But she closed +her eyes quite submissively. + +It was so wonderful, so sweet to fall asleep with Volodya sitting +beside her, looking at her so anxiously and tenderly. + +"My darling...." + +"You must sleep, you bad, naughty boy." + +"I'm asleep. But I love you." + +Volodya bent over her and kissed her eyelids, long, very gently, +tenderly. + +And Vasya could have wept with joy. She was willing to die right then +and there. No greater happiness could ever be hers. + + * * * * * + +The memory of what she had felt then made Vasya start. Was such a thing +impossible now? Had her heart been right when it told her that she +could never know greater happiness? + +And now that joy, that happiness would be no more. She was going to +him, to her beloved. He had asked for her, was waiting for her. He had +sent a comrade to tell her to hurry. And he had sent her money for the +trip. And a dress. So he must love her. Why, then, would she never be +so happy again? Vasya wanted so much to believe in her happiness; but +doubt rankled in her breast. She had no real faith. + +In a brown study, Vasya again thought of the past. They had parted +quite suddenly that time. The front was shifted. When Vladimir went +away, Vasya still was so weak that she could hardly walk. They parted +on the best of terms. The nurse was not mentioned again. Vasya had come +to understand that the nurse had meant no more to him than a glass of +whiskey. "You drink it, and it's forgotten." + +Vasya had gone back home, and immediately returned to her work. + +At that time she believed that everything was as it had been, that +everything was all right again. Now Vasya remembered that even then +there had been a load on her heart. Something, somewhere, was raising +its head. Was it bitterness because of the red-lipped nurse, or was it +suspicion? Yet Vasya loved Volodya. The fear they had shared, and her +illness had bound them even closer together. They had loved each other +before, too; but they had not felt so near to each other. Now, after +the distress they had gone through together, their hearts were more +united. Still, Vasya could no longer find the joy of a bright spring +morning in her love. It had become gloomier, overcast with clouds. Yet +it had grown deeper and stronger. + +Besides, how could one have been in the mood for love and joy? + +There were the fronts, the partings, the conspiracies, the mobilization +of the Communists. They were threatened from all sides, were head over +heels in work. Working in the Housing Bureau of the Soviet, Vasya had +to take care of the refugees. It was there that she had developed her +idea of organizing a community house to conform with her views. Stepan +Alexeyevitch had helped her with word and deed. And Vasya had plunged +into her work. + +She lived thus for months. Of course she thought of Vladimir, always +had him in her heart. But she did not have much time to yearn for +him. And he too had his work. Everything seemed to be running along +smoothly. He had stopped trying to show off so much, and was at peace +with the "Executive." + +Suddenly he surprised Vasya in her attic. Quite unexpectedly. He had +been wounded in a skirmish during the retreat. Nothing dangerous, but +he needed a rest. He was given leave, and had come to board with his +wife. + +Vasya was glad. Yet she could not help thinking: Why just now? Could it +not have been two months before, or a month later? Vasya was so worried +just then, and overwhelmed with work. A Congress was in session at the +moment, and the Housing Bureau was being reorganized. She was fighting +for her community house. Impossible to tell when the work would be +finished. She had almost had to tear herself in two. And now Volodya +was there, wounded, in need of care. How would she manage? + +Troubled, she could not be really happy. + +Vladimir, however, was delighted as a child. + +He had brought her a pair of shoes, keeping the promise he had made on +her first day in his house. + +"Put them on, Vasya. I want to see how your little doll's feet look in +them." + +Vassilissa had no time. There was a meeting of the Housing Bureau. But +she did not want to hurt Vladimir. + +She put them on, and felt that she saw her feet for the first time. +They really looked like a doll's. + +Radiant with joy she looked at Volodya--she even forgot to thank him. + +"I want so much to pick you up, Vasyutka. But I can't, on account of my +hand. I love your little feet. And your brown eyes." + +Vladimir was content, excited and happy. He talked and joked. + +But Vasya, who should have been at the meeting long before, listened +only half-heartedly. She glanced at the alarm clock beside the little +mirror on her dresser. The minutes were slipping away. They were +waiting for her at the meeting. They would be angry. She was keeping +everybody waiting, and it wasn't proper for the chairman to be late. + +Vassilissa came back home late, toward evening. She was tired. There +had been unpleasant incidents. She was worried. + +Climbing the stairs to her attic she thought, "It's nice, after all, to +have Volodya there. I'll talk over my troubles with him." + +But when she entered the room Volodya wasn't there. Where might he be? +His cap was there, his coat was hanging in its proper place. + +He had probably gone out for a moment. She cleaned up the room, and put +the teakettle on the petroleum burner. But Volodya had not come back. + +Where could he be? She went out into the hall--he was not in sight. She +waited, grew worried. + +Again she went into the hall. There was Vladimir, coming out of the +Fedosseyevs' apartment. They were laughing, parting like the best of +friends. Why had Volodya gone to them? He knew of their duplicity. + +"At last you've come back, Vasya. Your cage depressed me so, I was +ready to hang myself. All alone the livelong day. I was glad to meet +Comrade Fedosseyev. He took me along with him." + +"Don't have anything to do with them, Volodya. You know they're always +scheming." + +"You wouldn't ask me to die of boredom in your cage? Don't run away for +the whole day, then I won't go to the Fedosseyevs." + +"But I have work to do. I'd be only too glad to come home to you +earlier, but I can't. It's impossible." + +"Of course, you're busy. But how did I manage to sit beside you at +night when you had typhus? And I used to get away in the daytime too, +to look after you. I came to you on sick leave, Vasya. I still have +some fever." + +Vasya heard the reproach in his voice. He was offended at her having +been away all day. But what could she do? There was the reorganization +of her department, the coming Congress. + +"I believe you're not overjoyed to have me here," Vladimir said. "I +didn't think I'd find you like this." + +"How can you say such a thing? I'm not glad? I? My dearest. My beloved. +My sweetheart." + +She threw herself into his arms. They almost upset the petroleum burner. + +"There, there. And I was ready to think you had stopped loving me. That +you might have someone else. You seemed so cold, so indifferent. Even +your eyes were strange. Not at all tender." + +"I'm so tired, Volodya. I've no energy left...." + +"You're my tireless little tomboy!" Pressing Vassilissa to him, +Vladimir kissed her. + + * * * * * + +Thus they lived together in their "cage" in the attic. In the beginning +they managed. Although Vasya found it hard to devote herself to both +her work and her man, she was happy nonetheless. + +There always was someone to talk to, to advise her, to sympathize with +her when she was disappointed, to help her plan for the future. + +But the housekeeping was a nuisance. Vladimir had become accustomed +to good food at the front. But Vasya's household? She brought her +dinner from the public kitchen. She had no sugar with her tea, but only +rock-candy. For the first few days they lived on the groceries Vladimir +had brought. + +"I've brought you some food: flour, sugar, sausage. For I know how you +live, like a sparrow under the gables, without a bite to eat in the +house." + +When they had used up Volodya's provisions, however, they were +dependent on the public kitchen. And Volodya didn't like it. He +grumbled: "Why are you forever feeding me millet and millet gruel? I'm +no rooster." + +"There's nothing else to be had. I have to live on my ration." + +"What are you talking about! The Fedosseyevs have no more than you, but +yesterday they served me a real dinner, and a wonderful one at that. +Fried potatoes and herring and onions." + +"Fedosseyeva has the time for housekeeping. But I--don't you see that +I'm wearing myself out without attending to anything but my affairs?" + +"You've undertaken too much. That's the trouble. Why do you bother +about this community house? The Fedosseyevs were saying...." + +"I know what the Fedosseyevs are saying!" exploded Vasya. She was hurt +at Vladimir's associating with her enemies. "And you're not acting like +a comrade when you listen to them, and join them against me." + +They quarreled. Both lost their tempers. Then both were ashamed of +themselves, and they made peace. Vasya, however, grew more worried +over her inability to take better care of her man. He had come to her, +wounded, and she had offered him food from the public kitchen. He had +taken better care of her the other time, and he had brought her a pair +of shoes. + +It grieved her to see Volodya eating nothing. He would swallow two or +three spoonfuls of soup, and would push away the plate. + +"I'd rather go hungry than eat this dishwater. Make some tea, and try +to get some bread somehow or other. I'll send you some flour later, +from the front, so you'll be able to return it." + +Impossible to go on that way. She had to find some way out. + +Vasya hurried to the meeting. But her head was a jumble of resolutions +and millet gruel. What could she give Volodya for dinner? + +If only she had time she would find a way, would think, and prepare +something. + +She was delighted to meet her cousin on the way. Just at the right +time. The cousin had a daughter, a lively, capable girl just out +of school. Now she was living with her parents, had no definite +occupation, but was helping her mother with the housework. Her name was +Styosha. + +There was no difficulty about the arrangements. Styosha would spend +the day with them and keep house. In exchange, Vasya would share her +_payok_ with her cousin. A load off her mind, Vasya hurried on to her +meeting. Tomorrow Volodya would have decent meals. + +Styosha proved to be capable. And she got along well with Volodya. They +kept house together, exchanged some of their supplies, while Volodya +received a number of things from the union for old times' sake. Vasya +was content. Volodya no longer complained about the food. But now he +had another grievance against her. + +"You take care of everybody, but I mean nothing to you." + +Again Vasya was distressed. Thus was she torn back and forth between +Volodya and her work. But why had he come at such a feverish time? + +She tried to explain to Vladimir. But he was angry, pretended not to +understand. + +"You've grown so cold, Vasya. You've even forgotten how to kiss." + +"I'm so tired, Volodya. All my energy's gone," was her excuse. + +But Volodya was angry. Vasya herself realized that things couldn't go +on that way. Here her lover had come to visit her, after an endlessly +long time, and she was gone all day, working, returning only late at +night, dead tired, scarcely able to tumble into bed. How could she +think of kissing! + +There were painful incidents. One evening Volodya began to caress her. +But she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. + +The next morning Vladimir teased her. Where was the fun in petting a +lifeless body? He was laughing, but she saw that he was offended. She +too felt unhappy about it, felt that she was to blame. He could really +believe that she no longer loved him. But where was she to get the +energy for everything?- + +One day Vasya came home earlier than usual. + +Vladimir was preparing the dinner for himself. + +"What's the matter? Where is Styosha?" + +"Your Styosha is a little devil. I threw her out. If she dares to show +her face here again I'll throw her down four flights of stairs." + +"Why, what happened? What did she do?" + +"Take my word for it, she's a devil. I wouldn't have chased her away +for nothing. I don't have to tell you the whole story. You'll only get +excited. She's a vulgar, filthy creature. I don't want to see any trace +of her here." + +Vasya saw that he was furious at Styosha, and determined to ask no more +questions. She probably had stolen something, she thought. Such things +often happened. And Vladimir was very strict about his things. Though +he was very liberal otherwise, and always glad to share what he had +with his comrades, yet he had that possessive instinct. Let anyone dare +take something of his without his permission. He'd never forgive him. + +"What'll become of our household?" + +"Let the house go to the devil! I'll go to the hotel. And I've found +some friends. I won't starve!" + +Styosha went to see Vasya in the Housing Bureau, demanded her _payok_. + +"What happened between you and Vladimir Ivanovitch, Styosha? What did +you do?" + +"I didn't do a thing." Styosha's eyes flashed as she pushed her comb +more firmly into her hair. "Your Vladimir Ivanovitch always was fresh +to me, so I slapped his face good and hard for him. He spit blood for +quite a while. And he won't try it again." + +"How silly you are, Styosha. Vladimir Ivanovitch was only playing with +you." + +Vasya was trying to remain calm, but her head was swimming. + +"A nice sort of play that was. Why, he had me down on the bed! It's a +good thing that I'm strong. No one can have me against my will." + +Vasya tried to convince Styosha that it had all been meant playfully, +as a joke, and that now Vladimir Ivanovitch was really cross with her. +But Styosha looked more stubborn. What was the difference what it was +all about. She would never cross that threshold again. + +Gloom enveloped Vasya's heart. She didn't blame Volodya, didn't even +feel hurt. It was her own fault, after all. Why was she so cold? She +had offended Volodya. He might actually believe that she no longer +loved him. But this was nasty. Why had he touched the girl? Styosha was +barely out of her childhood. It was a good thing that she knew life. +What might not have happened otherwise? The incident preyed on Vasya's +mind. She was undecided as to whether she should tell Vladimir that she +knew everything, or whether she should remain silent. + +But Vasya had no more opportunity of talking with Vladimir. + +A new order was inaugurated. Vladimir hunted up his old friends, the +employes of the union. He disappeared for days at a time. They never +saw each other. In the morning, when Vasya went to the Housing Bureau, +Volodya was still sound asleep. When she stopped in during the day he +wasn't there. When she came home at night the attic was still empty. + +Vasya would be nervous. She didn't know whether she should go to bed +or wait to have tea with him. She heated her supper on the petroleum +burner, arranged her papers for the morning, listened to the steps in +the hall. + +That wasn't Vladimir. + +She put out the fire, for economy's sake, and took up her papers again. +She looked over reports, sorted petitions. Someone was hurrying up the +stairs. Was it he? No, it wasn't Vladimir. + +Vasya would go to bed alone, would soon be sleeping the sleep of +exhaustion. But even in her sleep she would listen. It was so cold and +dreary without him. + +Sometimes he would be merry when he came home; he would wake up Vasya, +and make love to her. He would be burning to tell her everything, would +have thousands of plans up his sleeve. + +Then Vasya would feel so happy, so content. All her troubles would +disappear. + +Sometimes, however, Vladimir wasn't entirely sober when he came; +walking heavily, he would look about him scowling, with watery eyes. +He was full of self-reproach on these occasions, but he blamed +Vassilissa too. What a life! In a cage, under the roof! No pleasure, +no diversions--a woman, and yet not a woman! And they had no child. + +This, particularly, stabbed Vasya. Although she had not wanted a +child, she would have liked to have one for his sake. But it seemed +impossible. She never became pregnant. Other women wept and wailed +because of their inability to avert the flood of children. But it +seemed that she, Vasya, was to be denied the joys of motherhood. + +"Anemia," was the doctor's opinion. + +In order to cheer up Vasya, Vladimir decided to take her to the +theatre; he procured the tickets. + +Vasya came home at the appointed time. Vladimir was preening himself +before the mirror. He had put on fine clothes, and looked like a +"gentleman" again. Laughing, Vasya teased him. She loved her handsome +man. + +"And what'll you put on?" He looked at her anxiously. "Haven't you a +Sunday dress?" + +Vasya laughed again. What in the world was a Sunday dress? He must have +learned that in America, where people dress up in a different outfit +every day. She would put on a clean blouse, and the new shoes Volodya +had brought her. That was all her finery. + +Vladimir looked cross. He scowled at her so that she grew frightened. + +"Do you think people will look only at your feet in the theatre? And +the rest of your clothes can be sackcloth?" + +"I don't understand why you're angry, Volodya." + +"How can one help being angry at these organizers of ours! They've +arranged our lives as if we were in prison. Here you've no real +amusement, no real home, no decent dress! You have to live in a cage, +drink water, eat garbage and wear coarse clothes! Why, I was better off +when I was out of work in the United States!" + +"But you can't expect everything at once. You know--the collapse." + +"Don't talk to me about the collapse. What sort of organizers have +we, anyhow? They've torn down everything with their own hands, but if +anyone wants to do something constructive they shout: 'Do you want to +become _burshuis_? Hands off!' + +"No, you don't know how to live! That's why everything goes to pieces. +I'm sure I didn't go through the Revolution to lead such a life!" + +"Why, the Revolution wasn't for us!" + +"For whom, then?" + +"For everybody." + +"The _burshuis_, too?" + +"Don't be silly! Of course not for the _burshuis_! For the workers, the +proletariat!" + +"And what do you think we are? Not workers, not proletariat?" + +They disputed and disputed, almost coming late to the theatre. + +Through the streets they went, through the slush of spring. Vladimir +walking ahead silently, with huge steps, so that Vasya barely could +follow. + +"Don't run so, Volodya. I'm all out of breath." + +Suddenly he stopped and waited. After that he walked more slowly, but +still refused to say a word. + +In the theatre, Vladimir met some friends, with whom he spent the +intermissions. And Vasya had to sit alone. + +The theatre gave her no pleasure. Why had she wasted the evening? Now, +she would have to work twice as hard in the morning. + + * * * * * + +The Congress opened shortly before Vladimir's departure. He attended +it, although he was not a delegate. There was wrangling; antagonistic +groups were formed. Vladimir was on Vasya's side. Leaving his friends, +he worked for her group wholeheartedly. Now Vasya and Vladimir became +inseparable. They went to and from the Congress together, discussed +their stand at home. The Comrades of her group crowded Vasya's room. +They drew up resolutions. Vladimir wrote on the typewriter they had +procured. Everyone was working swiftly, hurriedly; they seemed welded +together. They would become agitated, would quarrel. Then they would +laugh again, for no reason but their youth. They liked the battle for +its own sake. It kept their minds off their troubles. + +Stepan Alexeyevitch was there too, sitting at the table and stroking +his fine gray beard. His genial, animated eyes watched youth. +Vassilissa was always whispering about something with him. He spoke +very highly of her, said she was above the average. But he seemed +rather cool toward Vladimir. Vasya was sorry to see it. Why this +attitude? Vladimir, too, was distant in his manner. + +"Your Stepan Alexeyevitch is too oily for me. He smells of incense. +He's no Communist fighter. Just a toady, that's all." + +Vasya's faction was defeated. But she had received more votes than she +had expected. That, too, was a victory. + +As the Congress was drawing to a close, the time of Vladimir's +departure approached. Again Vasya was torn in two. She had to equip him +for his trip, and the Congress was still going on. + +But deep down in her heart Vasya was glad. Once more she had felt that +her man was not only her lover, but her friend. She was proud of him, +for he had been a great help to her group. The Comrades wouldn't let +him go. + +"Now good-bye, my Vasyuk. My little sparrow will stay all alone under +its gable. Now it won't have anyone to tell its troubles to. But to +make up for that no one'll disturb you in your work." + +"Did you ever bother me?" She embraced him, fondled him. + +"Didn't you say yourself that your man was taking up your time? Didn't +you complain about the housekeeping?" + +"Oh, don't talk of that. It's much worse without you." + +And she hid her head against his breast. + +"You're not only my sweetheart, but my comrade, too. That's why I love +you." + +They parted tenderly, on the best of terms. + +After seeing off Vladimir she hurried back to the Congress, thinking: +no matter how nice it is to be together, you're better off alone. +The presence of your lover distracts your thoughts, makes your work +progress too slowly. + +Now she could again devote herself entirely to her work. Work and rest. +She had never had enough sleep when he was there. + +"Did you see your husband off?" Stepan Alexeyevitch asked her at the +Congress. + +"Yes, Vladimir has gone." + +"That's better for you. He only got you into debt." + +Vasya was amazed. How had Stepan Alexeyevitch known? But she did +not answer. If she had admitted it her lover's prestige might have +suffered. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + +The train was to arrive in the morning. And Vassilissa was up with the +first pale light of dawn. She had to collect her things, and dress, to +please her beloved Volodya. They had been hard, those seven months of +separation. + +Vassilissa was happy, gay, joyful. She felt the spring in the air. + +The Nep-girl was still in bed, lying on her back, and gazing at her +reflection in a hand mirror. But Vasya had already washed herself, +carefully brushed her curls, and put on the new dress Grusha had made +for her. Vassilissa looked into the mirror on the wall. She saw only +her eyes. They sparkled so that her entire face looked beautiful. + +Everything seemed to be all right. This time Volodya wouldn't lecture +her for running around in "rags." + +A station. Vassilissa looked out the window. It was early in the +morning, the sun was shining. In the North one could hardly see that it +was spring, but here everything was in bloom. The trees, too, were full +of flowers. Strange, very odd trees. Leaves like those of the black +alder, but more delicate in color; and the boughs covered with white +blossoms, resembling lilac blossoms; but they were not lilacs. Their +perfume, sweet and very strong, was pouring in through the window. + +"What sort of tree is that?" Vasya asked the conductor. "We don't have +them in our country." + +"White acacias." + +"White acacias? They're pretty." The conductor broke off a few branches +and gave them to Vasya. + +How sweet their scent was. And Vasya was so happy that she was almost +in tears. Everything about her was so beautiful, so fascinating. But +the most important thing: "In another hour, I'll see Volodya." + +"Will we be there soon?" Again Vasya turned to the conductor. To her it +seemed that the train wasn't moving at all. It had stopped again, at a +siding. At last it moved on. + +Now the city was in sight. The cathedrals. The barracks. The suburbs. +The platform of the station. But where was Volodya? Where? + +Vasya looked out of the open window. Volodya, however, had come in +through the other end of the car, and took her into his arms. + +"There you are, Volodya. How you frightened me." + +They kissed. + +"Quick, let me have your things. This is our secretary. Please take +the things, Ivan Ivanovitch. We're going to the auto. I have a couple +of horses now, Vasya, a cow and a car. And I am intending to get some +little pigs. We have a lot of room; it's a regular farm. You'll see for +yourself. You'll live like the lady of the manor. Things are getting +along well. Not long ago we opened a branch in Moscow." + +Vladimir talked on and on. He could not tell her quickly enough of the +things he was busy with, which filled his thoughts. Sitting in the +auto, Vasya listened. And although she was very much interested in what +Volodya had to say she would have liked to talk about her own affairs, +to find out how he had got along without her. Had he longed for her +very much? Had he waited very anxiously for her? + +They drew up before the house. A one-family house with a garden. A +half-grown youth, an errand-boy in a gallooned cap, was standing guard +at the door. He helped them out of the car. + +"Now, Vasya, we'll see how you like our house. Whether you'll find it +better than your cage under the roof." + +Carpet on the stairs. A mirror. A reception hall. Vasya took off her +hat, dropped her coat. They went into the living-room. Sofas, rugs. +A huge clock in the dining room. Some still lifes in gilded frames. +Antlers on the wall. + +"Well, how do you like it?" Vladimir was radiant with pride. + +"I like it," Vasya replied uncertainly, looking about. She didn't +know herself whether she cared for it. Everything was so strange, so +unfamiliar. + +"And this is our bedroom." Vladimir opened the door wide. There were +two windows opening on the garden. This pleased Vasya at once. + +"Trees," she cried, delighted. "White acacias." She hurried to the +window. + +"Look around the room first; you'll have plenty of time to run around +the garden. Isn't it nice, what I've prepared for you? I picked out +and arranged everything myself. I've waited for you since the moment I +moved in." + +"Thanks, darling." Vasya stretched to kiss Volodya. But he seemed not +to see it, took hold of her shoulders and turned her so that she faced +the long mirror in the wardrobe. + +"See how convenient it is. When you dress you can see yourself from top +to toe in the mirror. There are shelves inside: for your underwear, for +your hats, for all sorts of gewgaws...." + +"Why, how many hats and gewgaws do you think I have? You've hit the +nail on the head." Vasya laughed. + +But Volodya went on: "Will you look at the bed? A silk quilt--I had +a hard time finding it. It belongs to me; I didn't get it among my +supplies. And here's a pink lamp to light at night." + +Vladimir showed Vasya around, pointing out every trifle, delighted as a +child. + +"Didn't I feather a cozy little nest for my little girl?" Vasya +listened, smiling at his happiness, but still not quite at ease. She +couldn't deny it, the rooms were nice, splendid. Rugs, curtains, +mirrors! But not familiar. As if she had come into somebody else's +house. The things were not what Vasya needed. There were no tables +where she could spread her books and papers. Only one thing really +pleased her. That she could see white acacias from the windows facing +the garden. + +"Get ready, now, and wash up; then we'll have some breakfast," said +Vladimir, going over to the window to let down the shades. + +"What are you doing that for?" objected Vasya. "It's so nice to look +out into the garden." + +"But it won't do. The shades have to be down by day, or the upholstery +will fade." + +Down sank the gray shades; like heavy eyelids they hid the green of +the garden shining in through the window. And the room became gray, +monotonous, even less familiar. Vasya washed her hands, and combed her +curls before the mirror. + +"What's that you have there? Did you have a dress made of the material +I sent you?" + +"Why, yes ...," expecting a word of praise, Vasya looked up at Volodya +inquiringly. + +"Let's have a good look at you." He turned her about. She could tell +from his expression that he wasn't pleased. + +"Where in the world did you get the idea of piling all that stuff on +your hips? You've a narrow figure, just the thing for the new fashions. +Why did you get this monstrosity?" + +Vasya was confused, flushed to the roots of her hair. She felt guilty. + +"Why a monstrosity? Grusha says that's stylish now." + +"What does your Grusha know about it? She made a mess of the material. +You look like the wife of a pope. You'd do better to take off that +dress and put on your every-day skirt. You'd look more like yourself. +This way you're neither fish, flesh, nor fowl." + +Volodya did not see the disappointment in Vasya's face. He went out +into the dining room to see about breakfast. + +With a heavy heart Vasya pulled off Grusha's handiwork, and hastened to +put on her old skirt and the blouse with the leather belt. + +She was not at all happy. Two little tears dropped on the old blouse. +They dried quickly. And there was an unpleasant coldness in Vasya's +eyes. + + * * * * * + +The "manager's housekeeper" came to pay her respects during breakfast. +Marya Semyonovna. A robust woman of middle age and respectable +appearance. + +Vasya shook hands with her. + +"That wasn't necessary," said Vladimir after Marya Semyonovna had left +the dining room. "If you don't act like the lady of the house you'll +have them all on your neck." + +Vasya looked at him in amazement. "That's something I simply can't +understand." + +Vladimir served Vasya. But she had no appetite, felt ill at ease. + +"Here, look at the tablecloth, Morosov linen. The napkins have the same +design, too. But I didn't have them put out, it costs too much to wash +them." + +"Where did you get all these things? Did you really buy everything?" +Vasya looked searchingly at Vladimir. + +"Such an idea! Why, do you know what these furnishings would cost +nowadays? Billions! Do you really think that my manager's salary +enables me to buy such luxuries? All these things were supplied to +me. I was lucky enough to come at the time when it was possible, with +the assistance of some friends, to obtain such furnishings from the +authorities. Now they've put a stop to all this. No one can have his +house furnished like this today. Not unless he pays cash. Besides, I +bought several things on my own account during the winter; the wardrobe +with the mirror, in the bedroom, the silk quilt, the drawing room +lamp...." Vladimir enumerated everything, happily, contentedly. + +Vasya's eyes grew colder and colder, shone with wrath. They no longer +seemed brown, but green, like a cat's eyes. + +"And how much did all these splendid things cost you?" Vasya's voice +trembled. Vladimir did not notice, but continued eating his chop and +drinking his beer. + +"Well, if you calculated the total, including what I've taken on +credit, on the instalment plan, it amounts to...." + +Slowly, so as to impress Vasya, Vladimir mentioned a very considerable +sum. Raising his laughing eyes to her face, he seemed to say: now do +you see what a fine fellow I am? + +"Why, Vasya, what's the matter with you?" + +She had jumped to her feet, was standing over him with angry green eyes. + +"Where did you get the money? Tell me at once--where?" + +"What's the matter, Vasya? Calm yourself. You surely don't believe that +I got it dishonestly? Or don't you know anything about money values? +Compare it with my salary, and you'll see." He told her the amount of +his monthly drawing account and bonus. + +"That's your salary? Your monthly salary? But how dare you, a +Communist, spend it for such trash, for such nonsense? Poverty's +increasing! Misery and famine are round about! And the unemployed? Have +you forgotten them? Was there nothing irregular about your becoming the +manager?" + +The furious green eyes came closer to Vladimir. "Well, Sir Manager, +will you be good enough to answer?" + +Vladimir did not give up, but wanted to bring Vasya to reason, to +convince her good-naturedly. He laughed at her. "You live like a +sparrow under the gables, and have no idea of what money is worth. +Others are earning even more, and live quite differently. They make a +really elegant appearance." + +But Vasya was not the sort to be defeated with words. She had made up +her mind to demand an account. Why didn't he live as a Communist? Why +did he throw away his money on foolish trifles while poverty and famine +held sway round about him? + +Vladimir realized that he couldn't get at her by this means. He +would have to try another way. He would have to attempt a political +explanation. That it was all a part of the manager's task. Instructions +from headquarters. The main thing was to do all he could to make the +undertaking flourish, to increase the earnings of his company. And this +was his strongest point. Vasya must wait until she saw what he had +accomplished in a year. He had built up everything in a deserted place, +had increased the output, so that now the entire trust was dependent +on his supervision. She would see for herself. Though he lived "like +a human being" he was none the less concerned with every one of his +employes, with the most humble shipping clerk. Let her only get an +insight into the matter, then she would think differently. But he had +not expected that his friend, Vasya, his wife, his comrade, would come +there to join in the chorus of his enemies. It was so hard to work that +way. He gave all his energy to the cause, and these were his thanks. +Even his wife was against him, wanted to condemn him. + +Vladimir was offended and furious. His eyes were those of an angry +wolf. They flashed fire at Vasya, as though to burn her. Because of her +suspicion and condemnation. + +Vasya listened thoughtfully. He might be right. Everything was +different now. The most important thing was that his accounts were +straight and the work done. The national wealth must be increased. She +was not disputing that. + +"Because I get some things, establish my own household? Am I to live in +community houses forever? And why are we worse than American laborers? +You should see how they live there. They have their own piano, their +own Ford, their own motorcycle." + +In the meantime the worthy Marya Semyonovna had looked into the dining +room several times. She wanted to serve the fritters; and she saw that +these two quarreled the moment they met. That's how it had been with +the "real gentlefolk" whom she had served before the Revolution. They, +or the Communists--they were all alike. Only, it was too bad about the +fritters, they would spoil with the standing. + +Vladimir took Vasya everywhere, showed her the offices, the warehouses +and the homes. He took her to the bookkeeping department, too. "Just +take a look at our books, you won't find such a system of accountancy +anywhere else. See how wonderfully I've arranged things, and then tell +me that I'm wasteful." + +He asked the bookkeepers to explain to Vasya the principle of their +system, which was simplified, but accurate. It had received special +commendation from headquarters. + +Vasya listened carefully. Although she couldn't understand everything +she saw that they were trying hard and loved their work. Volodya, too, +was in it with all his heart and soul. He took her to the homes of the +employes, purposely asked their wives whether they were satisfied. He +looked at Vasya triumphantly. Everyone said the same thing: Were they +satisfied? Nowadays it was impossible to be better off. "We owe our +lives to your providence, Vladimir Ivanovitch." + +"There! And you say I'm a spendthrift! Believe me, I took care of our +employes first. I got as much as I could for them. And only then did +I think of myself. You see how they live. The workingmen are just as +well off as the office force. I made special efforts in their behalf. +Really, I did everything I possibly could." + +"Very well, you did all that. But what about them? What did they do for +themselves?" + +"What peculiar ideas you have, Vasya. Don't we have the same interests, +they and I? Before, of course, the manager stood on one side, and the +workers on the other. But not now, not here. You've become moss-grown +in your little bog." + +He was joking, yet Vasya felt that Vladimir wasn't pleased, that she +had offended him. He spent the entire day taking her about the various +buildings of the works. Vasya grew tired. Her temples began to throb; +she had a stitch in her side, a backache. If only she could go home, +lie down and go to sleep. Her head was still buzzing with the noise of +the train-wheels. But Volodya had just told her that there would be +guests for dinner. She was to receive them. + +They came home, entered the hall. The errand-boy opened the door, and +remained standing, as though expecting a command. Looking at him, +Vladimir took a notebook from his pocket, scribbled a few words, and +gave the note to the boy. + +"Now hurry, Vasya, so there'll be no delay. You'll bring the answer to +me personally. Understand?" + +He turned to Vasya again, looked at her with an odd expression on his +face, half guilty, half inquiring. + +"What's the matter with you, Vasyuk? Why do you stare at me so?" His +voice sounded uncertain. + +"Nothing's the matter. But--the errand-boy's name is Vasya, too?" + +"Yes; don't you like the idea of there being two Vasya's in my house? +Can you imagine! She's jealous! But you needn't worry. There's not +another Vasya like you in the world." + +Gently he put his arm about her, gazed into her eyes, and kissed her. +It was the first time he had caressed her all day. They went into the +bedroom arm in arm. + + * * * * * + +The dinner-guests arrived: Savelyev and Ivan Ivanovitch, the secretary +of the administration. Savelyev was a tall, lean man, in a light gray +suit. His thin hair was neatly combed, and he wore a seal-ring on his +index-finger. Clever, rather crafty eyes, an unpleasant smile on his +smooth-shaven face. As though he were watching everything, and as if +everything were the same to him as long as he was well off. That's how +it seemed to Vasya. + +When he met Vasya he raised her hand to his lips. She pulled it away. + +"I'm not used to that." + +"As you say. But I never object to kissing the hand of a young woman. +It's pleasant, and the husband can't be jealous. You must be very +jealous, Vladimir Ivanovitch? Confess!" + +As he spoke he slapped Volodya's back. Vladimir laughed. + +"Vasya is a model wife, there's no need of being jealous of her." + +"So she doesn't follow her husband's example?" Savelyev winked at +Vladimir. And Vladimir's eyes suddenly grew big and frightened. + +"I don't think I've ever done anything to...." + +Savelyev interrupted. "Never mind. We know how you are, you married +men. I've been through it myself. But now I'm leading a bachelor's +life." + +Vasya didn't like Savelyev. Didn't like him at all. But Volodya talked +with him as with a friend. About business, about politics. Vasya +wouldn't have discussed politics with this "speculator," wouldn't have +laughed with him at the Chairman of the Executive Committee. She would +have to reason with Volodya, persuade him to drop this friendship. + +They had wine for dinner. The secretary, Ivan Ivanovitch, had brought +it in a basket. They were worried about some large shipments that had +failed to arrive, and which they were afraid would come too late for +the fair. + +Vasya listened, trying to grasp the meaning of it all. But it seemed to +her that these things weren't so very important, as if the main point +were not being mentioned. The throbbing and hammering of her temples +bothered her, and her eyes hurt. If only the meal were over. + +Vladimir ordered the auto right after dinner. He had to attend an +important meeting concerning the shipment. + +"Are you really going to the meeting today? The day your wife came? You +ought to stay with her. It's not nice of you, Vladimir Ivanovitch." +Savelyev looked at Vladimir with a crooked smile. + +"Impossible," interrupted Vladimir, carefully lighting a cigarette. He +would have been glad to stay--business, you know. + +Savelyev could not refrain from saying, "There are two sides to +everything." + +And again Vasya thought he was winking at Vladimir, laughing at him. A +disgusting speculator. + +"If I were in your place I'd drop everything else today, and spend the +first evening with your wife. Your business won't run away." + +Vladimir didn't answer, but picked up his cap angrily. + +"Well, Nikanor Platonovitch, are we ready to go?" + +They drove off, Ivan Ivanovitch going with them. Vasya was left alone. +Alone, in the great empty house that was so strange to her. She went +through the rooms. Dreary, lonely, cold. She stood beside the window. +Then she lay down on the bed with the silk quilt, and fell asleep at +once. + +She awoke with a start. It was dark. Lighting the lamp, she glanced at +the clock. A quarter past twelve. Had she really slept so long? Past +midnight. And Vladimir had not come in. + +Getting up, Vasya bathed her face and went into the dining room. + +The supper-table was set, the light was burning. The room was empty and +still, the rest of the house dark. She went into the kitchen, where +Marya Semyonovna was straightening things. + +"Hasn't Vladimir Ivanovitch returned?" + +"No. Not yet." + +"Does he always come back so late from his meetings?" + +"It depends." + +Marya Semyonovna was sullen, and sparing with her words. + +"How about you? Are you waiting up for him? Aren't you going to bed?" + +"Vasya and I take turns. One day he stays up, the next day I do." + +"Will Vladimir have supper when he comes?" + +"If he brings any guests I guess he'll have some. Otherwise he goes +straight to his room." + +Vasya stayed a little while longer, silent. She saw that Marya +Semyonovna was busy with her own affairs, and paid no attention to her. + +Going back to the bedroom, Vasya opened the window. A cool, quiet +spring night. The air was filled with the strong perfume of the +acacias. The frogs croaked loudly, curiously. At first Vasya thought +they were night birds. + +The sky was dark, and dotted with many, many twinkling stars. Vasya +gazed into the dark garden, looked up at the sky and stars. Her heart +became calmer. She forgot the speculator, Savelyev, forgot the pain +Vladimir had involuntarily caused her during the day. Now she felt +with all her soul that she had come to him, to her beloved, to help and +guide him. One who associates with Nep-people cannot help leaving the +right road. That was why he had summoned her, his friend and wife. + +Remembering how Vladimir had arranged everything, Vasya was proud of +him. How energetic he was. Now she saw things in a different light. +Everything seemed clearer, more intelligible, more cheerful than during +the day. + +Vasya was so absorbed with her thoughts that she failed to hear either +the car drawing up or Vladimir walking over the rugs and carpets to +her. The sound of his voice made her start. + +"What were we thinking about so hard, little Vasyuk mine?" + +As Vladimir bent over her, his eyes seemed anxious and loving. + +"Have you really come, dear? I've been waiting so long." + +She threw her arms about his neck. + +Vladimir picked her up as in the first months of their love, and +carried her through the room like an adored child. + +Vasya felt happy and gay. Volodya loved her, loved her as always! How +silly she had been! Why had she felt hurt in the morning? + +They drank tea together, had an intimate and affectionate talk. Vasya +pronounced her opinion of Savelyev. "It's better not to be a friend of +his." + +Vladimir did not deny it. He admitted that he, too, had no respect for +him; but he was useful; the whole business would have been impossible +without him. He had many connections from before, and enjoyed the +confidence of the merchants; it was possible to come in contact with +them through him. Volodya, too, had learned much from him. Frankly +speaking, he was not worth much as a man. A genuine _burshui_; but in +business he was indispensable. That was why Volodya had defended him +when the highest authorities, the "super-clever fellows," had arrested +Savelyev. And he was highly esteemed in Moscow. The local authorities +had been given a good calling-down on his account. + +"Yes, but didn't you write me that his hands aren't clean?" + +"How can I make it clear to you? He's our representative. Of course +he doesn't neglect himself. But he's no worse than the others. +Besides, the other fellows dawdle about and do nothing, while he works +conscientiously. And he knows his work, likes it." + +All this notwithstanding, however, Vladimir promised to see less of +him. Business was business, but it didn't necessitate a friendship. + +Having finished their tea, they returned to the bedroom arm in arm. +Vladimir pressed Vasya's head to his breast, kissed her curls, and +spoke thoughtfully, tenderly. "Such a dear little head. It'll always +be mine, won't it? Another friend like you, Vasya, doesn't exist. I +love only you, my Vasya, my little tomboy." + + * * * * * + +Vasya woke up late. Vladimir had gone to work long before. + +She didn't feel well. She had shooting pains in her side, felt +feverish, and was beginning to cough. Had she caught cold on the trip? +Although it was a beautiful sunny day she wrapped a shawl about her. +She didn't want to move, and didn't want to get up. Marya Semyonovna +came into the room, stood in the doorway, folded her hands before her, +and looked at Vasya as though she were expecting something. + +"Good morning, Marya Semyonovna." + +"Good morning," was the dry response. "What will you order for dinner? +When he left, Vladimir Ivanovitch said you'd attend to everything. +You're having guests." + +Vasya was at a loss. She had no idea what she should order. At home, in +the community house, she had had only such food as the State supplied. + +Seeing that Vasya knew nothing whatever about such matters, Marya +Semyonovna suggested various dishes. Vasya agreed to everything. +But she inquired as to the cost. Wouldn't it be very dear? Marya +Semyonovna's mouth snapped shut. + +"Well, if you want a good dinner, you can't save on it. You can't +have anything without money. The Communists have done away with the +_payoks_." + +"Do you have any money?" + +"There's a little left from yesterday, but not enough for today. Meat +is expensive, and we'll have to buy butter, too." + +"So Vladimir left you no money?" + +"He left me nothing. He only said: 'Go to Vassilissa Dementyevna and +discuss everything with her.'" + +What should she do now? Marya Semyonovna stood there, waiting for +the money, and would not go. Vasya had a little money left, but the +household would soon eat it up; and she would be left without a kopek. +She didn't like that idea. + +"Why don't you advance some of your money to me, and then have Vladimir +Ivanovitch give it back to you?" suggested Marya Semyonovna. + +"Really, that never occurred to me!" + +And the matter was settled. + +When Marya Semyonovna had gone Vasya went out into the garden. She +walked up and down the paths for a long time, until she was tired. She +felt so exhausted. Lying down, she took up a book, and fell asleep over +it. + + * * * * * + +Vasya lay stretched on the bed. Her cheeks were burning, her sleep +was disturbed by dismal, tormenting dreams. Waking, she looked about +fretfully. Why had she gone to sleep? It would have been better to see +the sights of the city. She hadn't come to Vladimir to be sick. Yet she +hadn't the slightest desire to raise her head. She closed her eyes, and +her thoughts immediately became confused. It was no proper sleep, not +even a doze. But she wasn't fully conscious, either. + +"Vassilissa Dementyevna, Vladimir Ivanovitch will come in for dinner +any moment; you should get dressed. Then I could make the bed. He hates +to see disorder in the house." + +Marya Semyonovna was bending over Vasya as though, being the elder, she +wanted to correct her. + +"Is it that late?" + +"Almost five. And you haven't even had breakfast. I wanted to wake you +before, but you were so sound asleep. That's from the trip. You haven't +got over it yet." + +"It might be the trip, or I may have caught cold. I feel chilled." + +"You should put on your woollen dress; it'll be warmer. The little rag +you're wearing isn't any good." + +"My suit turned out badly. My husband didn't like it at all." + +"Why do you say that? It's not so bad. There may be too many pleats on +the hips, and the waistline isn't just where it should be. Nowadays +they're wearing the waistline ... I've been a dressmaker, too. I know +all about clothes. Just you let me remodel the skirt. We'll change that +dress so Vladimir Ivanovitch won't recognize it." + +"Will it be ready by dinner-time?" + +"That's asking a little too much. No, we'll do it slowly; we won't rush +it. Now you put on your black skirt and wear the coat of your suit over +it. That'll look very well." + +Never before had Vasya spent so much time before the mirror. Marya +Semyonovna was forever finding something to change. Here she fastened +something with pins, there she made some long stitches. She found a +lace collar, too. The effect was quite good. Simple, yet elegant. Even +Vasya liked it. What would Vladimir say about it? + +Almost as soon as she was finished Vladimir came with his guests: an +employe of the G. P. U. (what had been the Cheka) and his wife. The +ends of his mustache had been waxed to needle points; he was foppishly +dressed, with tan boots that reached to his knees. And that called +himself a Communist! + +Vasya didn't like him at all. And his wife--dressed up like a +street-walker! She wore a thin dress, white shoes and a fur scarf +across her shoulders; her fingers were glittering with rings. Vladimir +kissed her hand, jested with her. What were they talking about? She +couldn't understand it. It was all nonsense. Vladimir was bending over +her gallantly, his eyes flirting with hers. + +Vasya sat beside the man from the G. P. U. He was a Communist. But she +had no idea of what to say to him. + +They had wine again. Vladimir touched glasses with the lady; she +whispered something to him, and both laughed. It annoyed Vasya. But he +paid no attention to her. As if she didn't belong to him. Queer! She +didn't like it. + +Jokingly they mentioned the fasts. The lady said that she was religious +and went to confession, even though she did not fast. How could that +be? A Comrade of the G. P. U. married to a believer? Vasya scowled. She +was out of humor. Because of Vladimir, too. What sort of friends did he +have? Toward the end of the meal, Ivan Ivanovitch came in to tell them +that Savelyev had taken a box in the theatre, and had invited them. + +"We'll go, won't we, Vasya?" asked Vladimir. + +"With Savelyev?" Vasya tried to catch his eyes; but he pretended not to +understand. + +"Yes, of course, with Nikanor Platonovitch. With the whole crowd. +They're giving a new operetta. It'll amuse you." + +"No, I won't go." + +"Why not?" + +"I don't feel quite well. I must have caught cold on the trip." + +Vladimir looked closely at her. + +"Really, you don't look well, Vasya. Your eyes are quite sunken. Let me +have your hand. Why, it's terribly hot. Of course you can't go. And I +won't go either." + +"But why not? Do go!" + +The guests, too, persuaded Vladimir, and he gave in. + +In the hall Vladimir embraced Vasya in the presence of the others, and +whispered in her ear: "You look unusually pretty today, Vasya." + +He asked Marya Semyonovna to take care of Vassilissa Dementyevna. + +"Go to bed right away, Vasya. I'll be back soon. I won't stay to the +end." + +They drove off. + +Vasya wandered about the rooms, quite forlorn. + +She didn't like this life. She couldn't say just what was wrong with +it. But everything was new and unfamiliar. And she was a stranger here; +no one had need of her. Vladimir might love her, but he thought of her +so little. He had put his arms around her, kissed her and gone away. It +was different when he had to go to a meeting, to work. But this time it +was the theatre! Why had he gone without her? Hadn't he seen enough of +the theatre during the winter? Something was troubling Vasya, haunting +her. She couldn't express it. She felt ill at ease. + +"I'll stay here a week," she decided. "I'll see how things stand with +Volodya, and then I'll go." + +But there was the rub. Where would she go? Back to the community house? +Her room there, her attic under the roof was gone. Her friend, Grusha +the seamstress, was living in it. Besides, the Fedosseyevs were there; +there would be gossip and worry. Once more she would have to fight +everybody for the house. And she felt too worn out for that. Besides, +she had lost faith in the soundness of the proposition. And that was +the most important point. + +No, she had no place where she could go. + +This thought made her heart even heavier, stabbed it as with a steel +blade. + +Vasya was cold. Shivering, she drew her hands into her sleeves. She +wandered through the dark, empty rooms. She felt as if this strange +house were preparing sorrow for her. A lurking disaster. + +A premonition? + +Could a Communist believe in premonitions? But it must be that. Else, +why this melancholy? This infinite, nameless, fruitless melancholy? + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + +Vladimir came home early, as he had promised. Vasya was in bed. + +He sat down beside her, and inquired how she felt. He looked into her +eyes as he spoke, and his grave, sad gaze puzzled Vasya. His eyes +seemed to bespeak suffering. + +"What's the trouble, Volodya? You're so gloomy." + +Burying his head in the pillow beside her, Volodya spoke in a +despondent tone. "Life isn't a bed of roses, Vasya. You don't know how +hard it is for me. You see only one side of my life. And you refuse to +understand. If you could read my heart, how hard I tried all winter, +you wouldn't condemn me. You'd pity me. You're so good, Vasya." + +She stroked his head, quieted him. And though she felt sorry for him +her heart was full of joy. She felt that they had the same thought, had +suffered the same pain. It wasn't easy for a proletarian to act like a +manager. She told him so. + +But Volodya shook his head mournfully. + +"It's not only that, Vasya, not only that. There's something else that +torments me, that lets me have no peace." + +"Are they plotting against you?" + +Volodya remained silent; it seemed that he wanted to say something, but +couldn't make up his mind. + +Vasya put her arms about him. "Tell me what's bothering you, dear." + +She laid her head on his shoulder. + +"What smells so of perfume? When did you put on perfume?" Raising her +head she looked at him. + +"Perfume?" Volodya seemed embarrassed. He withdrew a bit. "I probably +got it with my shave today. The barber must have put it on." + +Vladimir got up, lit a cigarette, slowly, carefully, and left Vasya. He +absolutely had to look through some papers that evening. + +Vasya coughed a little. She felt rather ill and feverish, had shooting +pains in her side. Vladimir noticed it, although she tried to control +herself in his presence. Her coughing disturbed him, and he had his bed +made on the sofa in the drawing room. + +The days dragged on. It was so dreary. She had nothing to do. Only +little household worries now and then. Vladimir was trying to save, but +insisted on everything being "just as it should be." Vasya gave her +little reserve to the household, for she didn't like it when Volodya +rebuked her: + +"Have you really used up all your housekeeping money? It's impossible +to get enough for you women." + +As if it were Vasya who invited guests and wanted three courses for +dinner! However, she had no cause to complain of Vladimir. He was very +solicitous in other ways. He was worried about Vasya's health and had +gone for the doctor himself. The diagnosis was general debility; and +the right lung was affected. She was ordered to lie in the sun as much +as possible, and to eat nourishing food. Vladimir was always inquiring +whether she was doing everything the doctor had ordered. Marya +Semyonovna was to see to it that Vasya had her meals at the proper +time. He had procured cocoa for her, and had brought a chaise longue +for the garden, so that she could warm herself in the sun. Vladimir +seemed very anxious about her. + +When he came home he went to her immediately. They didn't see much of +each other, for Vladimir was very busy just then. It was a time of +feverish work; the fair was to open soon. Vladimir seemed worried, +thoughtful and rather depressed. + +Lying on her chaise longue on the little lawn, Vasya sunned herself +like a lizard, and enjoyed life. She turned over from one side to the +other, grew tanned as a little gypsy. A queer life. No work. No cares. +But no joy, either. Like a dream. She was always thinking: Now, now +I'll wake up and I'll be back home, in the community house. She thought +once more of the Housing Bureau, the Comrades, Stepan Alexeyevitch, +Grusha. Even of the Fedosseyevs. It had been a trying life, but it had +been happier. + +She was waiting for Vladimir. He had promised to come home earlier +that day. Vasya had the feeling that today she would be able to talk +with him. To have a good heart-to-heart talk. But day passed after day, +and they never had that talk. There were always guests, or pressing +work. + +Savelyev no longer visited them, nor the usual guests, but members of +the administration, who were strange and uninteresting to Vasya. Their +conversation consisted only of consignments and unloadings, of packing +and invoices, of sales and rising prices. + +Vasya knew that all this was essential for the Republic, that the +national economy could not be built up without an exchange of goods, +but it bored her to listen to it. When she turned the conversation to +Party matters, to Bucharin's article, or the newspaper reports about +the German Communists, they listened to her, and returned to their +subject: shipments, consignments, net and gross. Vladimir wasn't bored. +The Comrades brought him to life. He debated with them, let them +advise him. Only when he was alone with her, with Vasya, did he grow +downcast. He would sigh, pat her hands, and look at her unhappily. He +didn't ask for her help, didn't complain. What could be bothering him? +The intrigues against him seemed to have come to an end. She had heard +nothing of them since her arrival. But what gave him such low spirits? +He surely didn't think that Vasya might die? This idea gladdened her. +So he must love her? True, he spent little time with her; but she +hadn't spoiled him, either, when he had been her guest. She, too, had +been on the go all day, had hardly had time to think of her man. But +she loved him no less for all that. + +Lying on her chaise longue, Vasya was delighted with the treetops +standing out against the blue sky. The summer breeze gently swayed +them, as with a caress. The crickets were chirping in the grass, the +birds were singing loudly in the bushes. + +Getting up, Vasya walked along the grass-covered path to a lilac-bush +in full bloom. How sweet it smelled. She plucked a branch. Buzz-z-z,--a +bee flew past her, settled down on a purple mass, and dusted off its +wings. + +"Well, well, how brave you are. Aren't you afraid of people?" laughed +Vasya. And suddenly she felt happy, so free, that she was amazed at +herself. She looked around as if she were seeing the garden for the +first time. The green grass, the strong perfume, the purple lilacs--the +little pond covered with duck-weed, full of frogs croaking, calling to +one another. + +Vasya didn't dare move. She was afraid that this sudden joy, this +bright, light-winged joy might fly out of her heart. It was as if she +had never known or felt or understood the meaning of life before. But +now she had grasped it. No despondency, no rushing about, no work, no +joy, no pushing toward a goal, but life pure and simple. Life, like the +life of the bee circling over the lilacs, like the life of the birds +singing in the trees, like the life of the crickets chirping in the +grass. Life! Life! Life! Why couldn't one spend all one's life among +the lilacs? Why couldn't man be like all of God's creatures? "God's?" +She was angry with herself. Since when was she thinking of God? That +was the result of her idleness, of her _burshui_ life, of Volodya's +good food. She might easily become a real Nep-girl if she continued +this way. + +Vasya hurried into the house. She was afraid of becoming soft. + +But the joyful feeling stayed with her. She was in high spirits. Had +she grown stronger, regained her health? + +Hardly had Vasya come into the bedroom and put the lilacs into the vase +when Vladimir drove up in the car. + +He hurried over to her. + +"Now they've begun. They've let me alone long enough, these gossiping +schemers. Now they've found new energy to dig up old matters. They've +just summoned me before the Supervisory Commission. They're bringing an +action against me. But we'll see. We'll see who'll come out ahead." + +Vladimir was running about the room, one hand at his back, a sign of +agitation. + +His Anarchism had been thrown up to him, too, and lack of discipline +and the devil alone knew what more! + +Here he was, killing himself with work to get things going, but instead +of helping, those fellows of the Executive Committee were only putting +spokes in his wheels. + +"If they keep on with this persecution, I'll leave the Party. I'll +leave it of my own accord. They needn't threaten me with expulsion." + +Vasya saw it as a serious matter. She felt anxious, oppressed. Was this +the lurking disaster? But she gave no sign of her thoughts. Instead, +she tried to calm Vladimir, to bring him to reason. + +"And your beloved Stepan Alexeyevitch--he's a fine fellow! They asked +him about me. And, if you please, he could think of nothing better +than to praise my work and say that for the rest I'm afflicted with +self-complacency and moral instability. What sort of priests are they, +judging a man not by his work and actions, but by his morals? I don't +live as a 'Communist'! Do they want to order me to become a monk? +Are they any better? Now look! They're not dragging the head of the +propaganda division into court, although he deserted his wife and three +children and married a common street-walker. Do you think that's right? +Should a Communist act like that? Why do they expect me to live like an +ascetic? What business of theirs is my private life, anyway?" + +Here Vasya no longer agreed with Vladimir. The C. P. was right. It +was not in keeping with the dignity of a Communist to imitate the +_burshuis_. A Communist, and a manager besides, must lead an exemplary +life. + +"But where the devil do you find me to blame? Of what does my +non-Communism consist? Of my refusing to live in filth? Of my work +forcing me to know every muckworm? Why don't they prescribe whom one +may invite into one's house, how many chairs one may have, how many +pairs of pants a Communist may own?" + +Vladimir was raging. He disputed with Vasya, but she was grateful for +the opportunity to speak out everything she had been keeping in her +heart. She didn't know herself just what was wrong, but it seemed to +her that Vladimir's life and actions were not those of a Communist. +Vladimir was trying to say that business would not go as well if there +were no mirrors or rugs in the manager's home; but she didn't believe +it. She wasn't convinced that it was necessary to be good friends with +Savelyev, or that business went better because Vladimir kissed every +woman's hand. + +"So you agree with them? I knew it. I thought so. You didn't come as my +friend, but as my judge. You join in the chorus. And now I know that +you despise me as the others do. Why don't you say so openly? Why do +you suppress your rage? Why do you torment me?" + +Vladimir was livid, his eyes were flashing. His voice was full of fury +and indignation. Vasya did not understand. Why did he flare up so? +Wasn't it permitted to contradict him nowadays? Such conceit! If only +he wouldn't have cause to regret it later. + +"Oh, Vasya, Vasya. I didn't think that of you. I didn't suppose you'd +desert me in my need. But I see I was mistaken. So let everything go +to the devil! If I'm destined to perish, all right. Then, at least, +everything'll be over." + +He brought down his fist on the table, upsetting the vase. The fragrant +purple masses fell to the floor; a shining rivulet of water flowed over +the silk scarf. + +"Now, look what you've done." + +Waving her away, Vladimir went to the window. He stared out sullenly. +Looking at him, Vasya felt great pity for him, as usual. It wasn't easy +for him. But things were hard for every proletarian. It was difficult +to see one's way, to know what was right, what was permissible. + +"Let's stop, Volodya. Why are you so discouraged? It's too soon for +that. This matter still has to be investigated. And you've committed no +crime. So it's only a question of your insubordination. Just you wait, +I'll go to the Committee myself and try to find out what the trouble +is. Everything'll be set to rights again." + +Standing beside Vladimir, she laid her hand on his shoulder and tried +to look into his face. But he seemed not to notice, stood there +gloomily, absorbed in his thoughts. He hadn't heard her at all. What +was the matter with him? Why were they so strange to each other, so +little like "comrades"? Vasya brooded silently. All the joy had gone +out of her heart. There remained only anxiety, dull, oppressive anxiety. + + * * * * * + +The next day Vasya went to the Party Committee. The more she had +questioned Vladimir the more alarmed she had become. Though the +accusations seemed biased they were not to be taken lightly. How would +the matter turn out? + +Vasya hurried through the strange city, asking the way of passers-by, +but wasting not a glance on the sights. She wanted to get to the Party +Committee as quickly as possible. She couldn't get rid of her alarm. + +It was in a separate large building. The red flag flying over the +entrance. The sign beside the door seemed so familiar, made her feel as +if she were at home, in her own province. And suddenly she was happy, +yearned to see "her own people." She didn't consider the Comrades who +visited Vladimir members of the Party. + +She asked for the Chairman's office. The boy at the information table +gave her directions. + +"Write down your name and why you've come. It's possible that he'll see +you today, but you might have to wait till Thursday." + +What sort of bureaucracy was that? Vasya didn't like it, but there was +nothing she could do about it. Sitting down at a table, she filled out +the blank. "Here, take this to the secretary," the information clerk +handed the paper to the office boy. "Go up the stairs, turn to your +left. That'll bring you to the waiting room. Just take a seat there." + +He uttered these directions in a bored voice. + +Suddenly he woke up: "Manyka, Manyka, how did you get here?" + +She was a half-grown girl, wearing a short skirt and fashionable hat. +Her eyes sparkled coquettishly. + +"I'm going to see some friends. Why shouldn't I come to your Party +Committee?" + +Disapprovingly Vasya appraised her as a street-walker. "In the old days +such a creature wasn't allowed to visit friends in Party Headquarters." + +Vasya walked through the long, bright hall; employes, male and female, +hurried past her. There was no inactivity. Everybody was busy. Only she +was superfluous. + +In the waiting room she was received by the attendant clerk, a +beardless youth. With an important air he asked for her name, and +looked it up in a record book kept by a hunchback. + +"It's long before your turn. Your business isn't urgent. You'll have to +wait." + +Vasya sat down in the back. There were others waiting too. Among them +several laborers with peaked, miserable faces and threadbare coats. +They were engaged in an animated discussion. Evidently a delegation. A +tall, well-dressed gentleman with glasses--a specialist, of course--was +absorbed in the reading of an old newspaper. A little old woman, a +working woman--with a waterproof shawl, was sitting there patiently, +sighing. + +Then there was a Red Guard, a jolly young fellow in the pink of health. +A peasant in a short jacket, and, beside him, a pope in his cassock. +Why might he be there? + +"It's your turn, Father," said the attendant, showing him into the +Chairman's office. "He belongs to the Living Church," he explained to +the rest. "A very clever fellow. He can be useful to us." + +Various clerks came in, bob-haired Communist girls in short, worn-out +skirts, bustling back and forth, bringing papers to sign, making +inquiries of the attendant. They whispered to him, and ran away again. + +A very fashionably dressed woman came in. She behaved like a "fine +lady," but actually she was the wife of a prominent Party worker, +and didn't belong to the Party herself. Vasya knew her. She asked +to be shown in before her turn. She had a note from a member of the +Central Committee. Having come from Moscow, she had no time to wait. +The attendant was firm. But the letterhead of the C. C. seemed to +shake him. Finally he said he could not break the rules. If it was a +personal matter she would please wait her turn. The "pseudo-lady," as +Vasya thought of her, was indignant. She couldn't understand these +provincial regulations. In Moscow she would have been given an audience +immediately. In Moscow they were fighting against bureaucracy, but +here! Forever inventing new rules! "Officials!" + +She sat down, deeply offended, and carefully smoothed her dress. + +A corpulent man rushed in noisily, his cap on the back of his head, his +overcoat unbuttoned. "A Nep-fellow," thought Vasya. + +"I say, Comrade, what sort of system do you have here? My time is +valuable; we're just making a shipment, and they're delaying me +with all sorts of nonsense. Want me to fill out blanks! Announce +me--Konrashev." + +And he threw back his head with a self-satisfied air, as though he were +Lenin himself. Vasya felt all her old hatred of the _burshuis_ boiling +up in her. That fellow ought to be arrested, to be brought to court. +That monkey-face, that impudent monkey-face! + +The attendant apologized. But it couldn't be done. Rules. The +Nep-fellow refused to listen. He became insistent in his demands, and +won his point. The secretary went into the other room to announce him. +But he returned with fresh apologies. + +"The Chairman asks that you take a seat. He has to see two others +before you on urgent business." + +"What the devil sort of system is this! And they want a fellow to do +business with them! They demand everything of us, and make threats +besides. Call us saboteurs. I'd like to know who is committing +sabotage here!" + +He wiped off his perspiration with his handkerchief. The "pseudo-lady" +nodded in approbation. The bespectacled gentleman peered disapprovingly +at her from behind his paper. The laborers were busy with their own +affairs, as if they hadn't noticed the noisy Nep-fellow. + +They were the next to be called in. After them the "specialist" with +the glasses had his turn. + +It was a tiresome wait. Going to the window, she looked down into a +garden, where two children were running about, chasing a dog. Their +high clear voices were audible upstairs. + +"Pull Bobka's tail. Then he'll howl. But he doesn't bite. Here, Bobka! +Catch him, catch Bobka!..." + +Now it was Vasya's turn. The Chairman was a small man, hardly visible +behind his big desk. He wore a pointed beard and glasses. He was so +emaciated that his shoulder bones stood out through his coat. + +He glanced ungraciously at Vasya, and gave her his hand without looking +up. + +"What do you want? Something personal?" He spoke briefly, dryly, as if +she had made a plea. + +"I've come to report at headquarters." It would be better not to +mention Volodya's affair at first, thought Vasya. He'd never meet her +half way. + +"I came here a little while ago." + +"So I have heard. Are you here for any length of time?" + +"I have a two months' leave of absence, but I may stay here longer, +because of my delicate health." + +"Are you simply resting, or do you want some work?" + +As he spoke he didn't look at Vasya, but arranged his papers. As if to +show her that he had no time for idle talk. + +"I wouldn't accept any regular position. But you could use me in your +propaganda work." + +"I could use you, yes. We're beginning the work of transition to a +local budget next week. Didn't I hear that you have specialized in +housing problems?" Again he glanced at Vasya, only to return to his +papers. + +"I've worked in the Housing Bureau for two years. I've organized some +community houses." + +"Ah! That sounds interesting. You must teach us how to make the +community houses self-supporting." + +Vasya shook her head. "I can't do that. When we wanted to become +self-supporting everything went to pieces. A community house is on the +order of a school to develop the Communist spirit." + +"But, you see, this isn't the time for such things. Give us a +reasonable idea of the cost, a financial estimate, to take the burden +off the state budget. But how can you want to combine the housing +question with education? We have schools and universities for that." +The Chairman smiled a very superior smile that irritated Vasya. + +Suddenly she rose. + +"Good day, Comrade." + +"Good-bye." + +This time he looked more carefully at her. Vasya, too, looked coolly +into his eyes. + +"You might go to the propaganda department, and register there. Then +you could stop in the women's division, they always need workers there." + +"I also wanted to ask you how the matter of Vladimir Ivanovitch +stands." As she asked this she looked keenly at the Chairman. He, too, +had his finger in the pie. + +"Why, what could I tell you?" Wrinkling his forehead, the Chairman +shifted his cigarette to the corner of his crooked mouth. "It's quite +serious. I've heard of you, that your standing in the Party is very +good. But I'm not the right man to tell you anything about Vladimir +Ivanovitch." + +"Of what do you accuse him? Vladimir Ivanovitch has done nothing +criminal, couldn't do anything of that sort." + +"What do you mean by criminal? But I've nothing to do with this +business. Try to find out something from the S. C. Good-bye." + +He nodded to her, and again buried himself in his papers. Don't bother +me, I'm busy. + +Scowling, furious, Vasya left the Chairman. Even a non-Communist +wasn't given such a reception in her province. She had come to her +people, and had been treated like a stranger. Vladimir was right. They +had become officials, with the manner of military governors. + +Vasya walked on thoughtfully, without even noticing that she had come +on a man from home, Michailo Pavlovitch, a worker in the machinery +division of the factory where Vasya had been employed. + +"By all the saints, what do I see! The fair Vassilissa! Good morning." + +"My dear Michailo Pavlovitch." + +They embraced and kissed. + +"Are you visiting your husband?" + +"And what are you doing here?" + +"I'm cleaning up the Party. I'm a member of the S. C. and we're forever +cleaning up, but we can't get rid of all the muck." + +He laughed into his red beard. His eyes were warm, cordial. Still good +through and through, as he always had been. + +Both were delighted, asked and answered questions. Michailo Pavlovitch +took Vasya to his cell beside the main entrance. In the good old days +the janitor had lived there. Michailo Pavlovitch had settled there +temporarily on his arrival, and had stayed there. An insignificant +little room: a bed, a basket containing his personal belongings, two +chairs, and a table covered with newspapers, glasses and tobacco. + +They were glad to have met each other, and their conversation flowed on +smoothly. They spoke of friends and comrades. Provincial questions came +up; they discussed what was sound and what rotten. They spoke of the +Nep, too. Michailo Pavlovitch was thoroughly sick of the Nep. Nor could +he stand the Chairman of the provincial Committee. + +"A little man, but very proud of himself. 'I, Me and Company.' Of +course, he's a hard worker, energetic and not stupid. But he wants +to be everything. He'd like to be Chairman of the light that comes +in through the window. The workers can't stomach that. They say that +the Congress has decided on democratization, but that our bureaucracy +has only increased. There is more fawning and a great deal of gossip. +They're forming cliques that disturb our work, and undermine the +authority of the Party. It's the Chairman's job to hold them all +together impartially, like a father. But he drives people apart." + +"By the way, Michailo Pavlovitch, how do Vladimir's affairs stand? What +is he accused of? Is it serious? Tell me, as a friend." + +Michailo Pavlovitch stroked his red beard. He thought for a while +before he answered. "In itself the matter isn't worth a straw. If our +Communists were to be brought to court for such things almost all of +them would have to be condemned. The whole trouble is that Vladimir +Ivanovitch couldn't agree with the Chairman from the very beginning. +Each insisted on his rights. The Chairman issued orders which Vladimir +Ivanovitch did not follow, saying that they were the business of +the Party, and did not concern him. 'I'm not your subordinate, I'm +connected with the economic organization only. Let that judge whether I +do my work properly.' There were conflicts, and the matter was taken up +in Moscow, where some supported the Chairman while others defended the +manager. No definite decision was reached. Both were right. + +"So matters went from bad to worse. Neither would give in. Both would +send denunciatory letters to Moscow at every opportunity. After things +had gone on that way a while there came a commission from Moscow to +smooth over the quarrel. They worked out a strict agreement. But the +moment the commission had gone the squabbling began all over again." + +Now the matter was before the S. C. Michailo Pavlovitch would try to +settle it peaceably. The manager was working in his own domain. The +Central Committee was satisfied. And there really was nothing with +which he could be charged. There couldn't be. Michailo was convinced of +that. Didn't he know the "American," the Anarchist? He still remembered +how they had established the Soviet together in '17, how they had +worked together. And as for his living in great style, his unexemplary +conduct, and his uncomradelike manner--were any of them without blame +in this respect? + +However, the Chairman and the other members of the Commission were +all for going into the matter, for making an example of the manager, +and for showing that the Party didn't take such things lightly. To +discourage others from doing the same. + +"But what does Vladimir Ivanovitch do? Is it because his house is +nicely furnished? But that isn't his own; it belongs to the State, and +has been put at the disposal of the manager." + +"It's not only the furnishings. People are wondering where he gets the +means to support two households." + +"How has he two households? Do you think that Vladimir has been +supporting me? How could you imagine such a thing? If you really want +to know, I've even contributed my own money to the household. Because +Vladimir can't manage with his. His work compels us to receive people, +to have dinner-guests." + +As Michailo Pavlovitch listened to Vasya she thought she read pity of +some sort in his eyes. She didn't like that. Why should he pity her? +Because she was defending the "Anarchist"? Long ago, when she had first +become associated with Vladimir, Michailo Pavlovitch had opposed her +election. + +"Why are you against me? Don't you believe me? How could you think that +I would press him for money?" + +"I'm not speaking of you, my darling. But it's not proper for him to +have such objectionable friends." + +He looked searchingly at Vasya as he spoke. + +"Are you alluding to Savelyev?" + +"Yes, Savelyev, too. And the others...." + +"Savelyev doesn't come to us any more. Vladimir has promised me not +to have any but business relations with him. And as for the others, +it's all in his work. There are a great many people he doesn't like, +who are strangers to us. But what can he do? They're in the business, +shareholders or technicians." + +"Ye-e-es!" drawled Michailo Pavlovitch, thoughtfully stroking his beard. + +Vasya told him that she, too, couldn't understand many things. +Sometimes she didn't know herself what was right and what was wrong. +What was permissible, and what should a Communist not do? People had +changed and so had the work. + +She would have liked to stay longer with her friend, but Michailo was +sent for to go to the S. C. + +As they parted they arranged that Michailo Pavlovitch would acquaint +Vasya with his factory boys. As for the question of the manager, he +would think it over. But she should understand this: if Vladimir would +go on that way he would run the risk of expulsion. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + +"At last my tomboy's come back! Where were you fighting? At Party +Headquarters? What did they say there?" + +Vladimir met Vasya on the stairs. He must have been waiting for her at +the window. + +He listened to Vasya's report, walking up and down the room and +smoking. His face was worried. "You say they're accusing me of keeping +up two households. And suppose I had five households. What business +is it of theirs, the hypocrites? My accounts are in order, I'm not +stealing any goods or accepting any bribes; what in the world do they +want?" + +And again Vasya didn't bother about the significance of "two +households." + +She remained firm concerning Savelyev. That would have to stop. Let +him go to the office, but keep him out of the house. She also inquired +about the workingmen: Was it really true that Vladimir was foul-mouthed +and abusive? + +"That's fiction pure and simple. Nonsense. Defamation. Of course, it +happens that I shout at them, or even curse them. But it's all for the +cause and never without a reason. They can't be left to themselves. +Especially the shippers--a lazy, dull-witted group." + +Vasya didn't tell Vladimir that he was threatened with expulsion. He +was sufficiently depressed without that. But now she determined to +organize the household properly. Simpler food, no more unnecessary +guests. Vladimir would have to get rid of the horse he had bought. Why +did he need a horse when he had the car? + +Vladimir flared up again. It was a well-broken saddle horse, would even +take a side-saddle! "It's impossible to get such a thing nowadays. +It was a special opportunity, and a great bargain. Today a horse +represents capital." + +"Capital? Have you any intention of becoming a capitalist? Don't joke +that way, Vladimir! You may have to weep over it later." + +"Do you think they'll throw me out of the Party? What's become of the +Party, that it's expelling people for 'moral' reasons? Let them do it. +I'll work with the economic organization." + +Seeing that his temper was running away with him, Vasya did not +contradict. She only insisted that everything would have to be changed. +Everything would have to become simpler, quieter. And, most important +of all, they would have to avoid all objectionable relationships. She +promised to speak with Michailo Pavlovitch again. If it came to the +worst she would go to see Toporkov in Moscow. + +Sitting there on the window sill Vasya looked so pale and thin. Nothing +but eyes. And even her eyes were not happy. + +Vladimir looked at her. Throwing his cigarette to the floor, he walked +over to her, put his arms about her, and pressed her close, close. + +"Vasya, you dear friend of mine. Don't desert me, Vasya, not now. Help +me, advise me. I know that I'm to blame. Not before them--before you!" + +He laid his head on her knee, like a little boy. + +"How are you to blame, Volodya?" + +He hesitated. + +"Don't you understand, Vasya? Don't you feel it?" + +"Because you're harming yourself? Because you're betraying your +proletarianism? Don't accuse yourself before me, but before yourself." + +"Oh, Vasya, Vasya." Vladimir turned away, as though he were +disappointed. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked: "Is dinner +ready? I want to eat. I haven't had a bite since morning." + + * * * * * + +Vasya was returning from a meeting. She was working with the girls +of the hemp-binding works, and was helping the woman in charge of +the organization work to get the factory going. She was working with +the crowd again, quite naturally, as if she were at home. Michailo +Pavlovitch saw a good deal of her, and she had become friends with his +"boys." The group was not exactly homogeneous, but they stuck together, +"fought" against the Chairman of the Provincial Committee, and objected +to the policy of the "economists." Their admiration was centered on a +former workingman who had become the manager of the steel foundry. He +was one of their "own people." He hadn't dissociated himself from the +crowd or taken on "the manner of a military governor." + +Vladimir's case had not yet come up for trial. Michailo Pavlovitch +said that new material had come in, and that it wasn't favorable. He +advised Vasya to warn Vladimir. He really must be more cautious, must +avoid Savelyev. Savelyev's reputation wasn't of the best. Let the +"economists" protest as much as they wanted, the G. P. U. wouldn't +permit him to run about at large much longer. + +Vasya's mind was troubled. She was suffering for Vladimir. Particularly +just now. He was working from morning to night. And as soon as he came +home he would settle down with his accounts. The Central Administration +had ordered him to reorganize the bookkeeping system. He had taken on +a specialist, a bank employee, to help him; and the two of them would +be bending over the books till three o'clock in the morning. Vladimir +had grown thin, and did not sleep well. It was only natural, with his +twofold cares. He held a responsible post, and had the intrigues and +gossip to worry about besides. Vasya's heart ached for him. It was +overflowing with tenderness for him. + +They received no more guests. Nor was anything heard of Savelyev. He +must have gone away. It was better thus. Vladimir had stopped going to +the theatre, no longer visited his friends. He spent all his evenings +at home. Troubled, silent, gloomy. + +Vasya didn't know how to take his mind off his worries, how to make his +work easier for her man, her friend. + +She could forget him only in the hemp-binding works, while she worked +for the Party. The factory girls led a wretched life. They earned very +little. There had been no time to look over the rates, and the pay was +in arrears. The administration was not able to manage. Silly fools! +Vasya besieged them, stood up for the interests of the shop girls. She +had set their union going, and had brought the matter as far as the +accounting department. + +She was kept very busy at the factory. She would forget everything +else, and the day would be over before she realized it. One evening +Vasya was walking home with the organizer, Lisa Sorokina. Lisa was +a working-girl, young and sensible. Vasya liked her. As they walked +they worked out a plan. Whom should they arouse to action, so that the +accounting department would be given a push forward in the matter? + +They reached Vasya's house almost before she knew it. As she went in +Vladimir came to meet her. He was quite different now. Gay, his eyes +shining, sparkling with delight. + +The moment Vasya came in he put his arms around her. + +"Congratulate me, Vasyuk. There's a letter from Moscow. I'm getting +a new position. An advancement. I'm to be at the head of an entire +district. We'll have to stay here about two months longer, until I've +finished up everything. And then we'll see what our S. C. will do. What +will the Chairman say?" + +"Don't be too happy about it. The action against you might come in +between." + +"Nonsense. The Central Administration wouldn't let them insult me any +more. You don't realize that I've become a most important personality." +Elated as a boy, he fondled Vasya and kissed her. "You tireless tomboy +of mine, I'm so happy that I've brought a present for you, too." + +He took her into the bedroom. Some blue silk and white batiste lay on +the bed. + +"Here's some blue silk for a dress. Dress yourself nicely, sweetheart. +That grayish-blue will become you. And here's some batiste, for +underwear." + +"For underwear? What in the world are you thinking of, Volodyka?" Vasya +laughed. "This material for underwear?" + +"It's just the right thing for that. Soft white batiste for ladies' +underwear. You ought to stop wearing that sackcloth stuff. It makes you +look like a bag of flour." + +"No, I'd rather have some blouses made of it. But as for the silk, +you might just as well have not bought it, though it's pretty. And I +suppose you paid cash for it? Why are you such a spendthrift?" + +Vasya shook her head. Volodya's presents gave her no joy. And they +would accuse him of extravagance again. But she didn't want to hurt his +feelings. + +"Don't you like it?" asked Vladimir. + +"The material's pretty, of course. But what can I do with it? Use your +judgment. Is it for the theatre? Do you want me to go to the theatre +with you as the 'manager's lady'?" Vasya laughed as she tried to +picture herself in this blue dress. "But I thank you, anyway--thank you +for your kindness and your love." + +Rising to her toes, she embraced Vladimir, and kissed him long, +fervently. + +"At least you haven't forgotten how to kiss, Vasyuk! And I was +beginning to think you had stopped loving me. You've exiled me from the +bedroom. You never come to me, never make love to me." + +"But we haven't time for such things, and you aren't in the mood for +them." + +"And you still love me?" + +"I? You?" + +"Do you want me to remind you how we used to love each other?" + +They laughed, the two of them, as if they had been separated and now +had found each other again. + + * * * * * + +Vasya was hurrying to the factory. On the stairs it occurred to her +that she had forgotten Bucharin's "A B C of Communism." It was in +Volodya's book-case. Hurrying back to the study, she opened the glass +door. A package fell on the floor, the paper came undone. Vasya stooped +down, and felt as if her heart would stop beating. It was a piece of +the silk Vladimir had given her, a piece of the same batiste. And a +bundle of lace and inserts besides. Why? For whom? + +Dimly she remembered: "He's keeping up two households." Impossible. +Vasya was afraid to think of it, afraid to look the truth in the face. +But her jealousy was aroused. + +"He's keeping up two households." He was so variable. Now he would +be distant, would hardly look at her, then, again, he would be +inordinately affectionate, as if to make good a fault. She remembered +that Volodya always smelled of perfume when he returned from the +theatre. She recalled how he would always preen himself before the +mirror when he went out in the evening. And she thought again of the +long-forgotten nurse with the full lips--of that bed.... + +Vasya's eyes grew dim, her hands seemed petrified. Her heart was +heavy with unspeakable pain. Volodya, her beloved, her comrade, was +betraying her, his friend, his Vasyuk. He had other women--behind her +back--while she was there. It would have been different if they had not +been together. She would ask him no questions then. But this way! He +caressed Vasya, and she felt that they were one, felt it with all her +heart, with all her love and tenderness. + +What could it mean? Didn't he love her any more? That was impossible! +Vasya's heart couldn't believe in such anguish. She sought for a straw +to which to cling. If he no longer loved her, how could he be so loving +and solicitous? Would he have called her? Anyway, how could such a +thing happen? How could Volodya stop loving her? They were so close to +each other, so intimately bound up with each other. They were friends, +comrades. What hadn't they gone through together! And now, again, +disaster was looming. Vasya didn't believe in it, refused to believe in +it. But the serpent of jealousy dripped its venom into her heart. + +Why had he spent so little time at home? Why was he so melancholy, so +gloomy? Why didn't Vasya delight him as before? Why had he sought an +excuse--her cough--to sleep alone? + +The serpent's fangs were sharp, so sharp that Vasya almost moaned +with pain. She didn't want to hear its hissing. Vladimir loved her, +loved Vasya! He loved her! Otherwise would he caress her as he had +yesterday? And this material might be intended for someone else. +Volodya might have bought it for somebody. How did she know that the +package belonged to him? There was no evidence. She had simply imagined +it. + +Vasya was ashamed of her suspicion, of having tried to check up on her +husband like an old woman. + +But the serpent of jealousy still was gnawing at her. Keep still, you +evil snake! When Vladimir would come back she would ask him, would have +a long talk with him, so that everything would be explained and she +would know the truth. + +Taking up the "A B C" she hastened to the hemp-binding works, for it +had become very late. + + * * * * * + +Vasya was hurrying homeward. She was afraid she would be late for +dinner. At the factory the serpent in her heart had remained still. But +hardly had she reached the street when it stirred again. + +"He's keeping up two households." Two pieces of silk, two pieces +of batiste. How did Volodya know that this material was used for +underwear? And who used it? Girls of easy virtue, and Nep-women +with easily earned money. What had he called Vasya's things? +Sackcloth--flour-bags. But what difference could underwear make? Hadn't +he loved her in this underwear? And in the old days he wouldn't have +left her alone the day she came. A meeting, he had said. But why had he +dressed so carefully before the mirror? Why had he smelled of perfume? +Why did he no longer look at Vasya with tenderly mischievous eyes? She +would ask him when she got home: This is how matters stand. Tell me the +truth. For whom is the material? Why did you hide it in the book-case? +If it had been bought for someone else he would have thrown it on the +table. No evasions! No lies! That I'd never forgive! + +Vasya ran up the steps, and rang the bell. She was in a hurry. + +The automobile was standing before the door, so Vladimir must be at +home. She would go to him at once, and demand an answer. She wouldn't +forgive deception. She wouldn't permit him to play with her as husbands +played with their unloved, lawfully-wedded wives. + +Vasya became flushed with her anger. Why didn't someone open the door? + +She heard the bolt being pushed back. At last! + +"There are guests from Moscow," Marya Semyonovna told her. "Six people. +And they're all supposed to get enough to eat. That's not so easily +done!" + +"Guests? Who are they?" + +She heard voices in the drawing room. Animated conversation. Vladimir +was there too, playing the host. He introduced his wife, Vassilissa +Dementyevna. The guests were members of the syndicate; they had +brought a new program for the work. + +Vassilissa would have liked to ask them for news from Moscow, and +about the political litigation that everybody was interested in +at the moment. But Marya Semyonovna was in the doorway, beckoning +mysteriously, calling Vasya. She must need help. Vasya, the boy, had +been sent for wine; Ivan Ivanovitch had gone to fetch entrées. And the +worthy Marya Semyonovna was in despair. She had to cook and to set the +table. Vasya would have to help her, for Vladimir wanted everything to +be just so. The table should look well. + +Both the women worked hard. It was a good thing that Ivan Ivanovitch +returned, and also helped. + +Vasya had no time to think of the blue silk. And the serpent in her +heart gave no sign of life, seemed to be gone. Vasya wanted only to +help her man so that he would make a good impression on the members of +the syndicate. + +The errand-boy, Vasya, came back, all out of breath, with the wine. +Ivan Ivanovitch uncorked the bottles. The table looked splendid enough +for Easter. There were appetizers, wines, flowers, Morosov napkins, +silver cutlery. + +The guests were asked to come in. Vladimir glanced anxiously at the +table, and seemed content. But why didn't he at least look gratefully +at Vasya? She had tried so hard. She felt hurt, offended. + +Vasya conversed with her guests. But she could not stop thinking of +that blue silk. For whom was it intended? For whom? + +She glanced at Volodya. She saw him with different eyes, as though he +were a stranger. And if he were close to her, if he belonged to her, he +would have pitied her. He would never have let that accursed serpent +enter her heart. + +Vasya was tormented throughout the evening. At night she had to put +up the visitors. She sent the errand-boy for pillows, and arranged a +dormitory in the study. There she couldn't help looking at that damned +book-case again and again. The blue material was lying there. For whom? +For whom? + +She was exhausted. She had served tea. The guests spoke only of their +own affairs, of various kinds of goods, of different methods of +packing, of specifications and calculations. + +They were business men. They had been merchants. Among them were +two Communists who were seeking their salvation in trade. Real "Red +merchants". + +Vladimir grew animated. He was proud of his business, of being ahead +of all the others. His business was barely a month old, but it was +developing. The merchants' respect for him was evident. Everybody +listened to him. No one paid any attention to the other members of the +administration. + +Vasya watched them. Under ordinary circumstances she would have been +happy for Vladimir. But today he seemed a stranger. Business, nothing +but business, not a thought of her. Nor did he see how weary her spirit +was after this day. And if he had deceived her, lied to her, might he +not be a little crooked in business? Might not the Party Committee be +justified in calling him to account? + +And what didn't these syndicate people discuss! If only she could be +alone with Vladimir. If only she could find out something about the +blue material. + +Vasya undressed for the night, and waited for Vladimir. He was to sleep +with her that night, for the syndicate people had taken possession of +all the other rooms. She listened for his steps. The guests had already +said good-night. Now he was only giving Ivan Ivanovitch instructions +for the morning. + +He was coming. Vasya's heart pounded, her knees trembled. She sat down +on the bed. She would ask him as soon as he came in. + +But Vladimir gave her no chance to ask her question; he was too full +of news himself. He wanted her advice: how should they reorganize the +machine so as to strengthen the Communists, so that the members of +the Party would prevail over the members of the syndicate, over the +_burshui_? + +"Advise me, Vasya. Think it over carefully. Tomorrow we'll go over the +new project together. But first you read over the program by yourself, +and think about it. These 'bay-windows' would like to get the power; +they're secretly plotting against us proletarians. Let them plot! We +weren't born yesterday, either. It's our job to construct the machine +so that nothing can be done without the Party, without the Communists." + +"Then why don't you follow the Party regulations? Don't you often say +that expulsion from the Party isn't the worst thing that can happen to +you, that you can live without the Party?" + +"Oh, one can say so many things without meaning them," laughed +Vladimir. "You understand that. But how can one live without the Party? +Will we ever leave it?" + +Vladimir spoke thoughtfully, pulling off his shoes the while. "If +only I had this stupid case off my chest. And how we'll live, +Vasya--wonderfully. You'll see what a model Communist I'll be as soon +as I'm transferred to another district. And I won't have any more +fights with the Chairman. I'll be so good they'll canonize me." + +Volodya was happy, not sulky as he had been so often in the last few +days. His eyes were again laughing mischievously. + +"Let's go to sleep." + +Vladimir wanted to put out the light, but Vasya held his hand. + +"No, wait.... I have to ... I want to ask you something...." + +She raised herself on her elbow, the better to see his face. Her heart +pounded, her voice sounded curiously unfamiliar. Vladimir started. + +"Go ahead. What is it?" + +He was looking not at Vasya, but at the wall. + +"I wanted to ask you. Why do you have material lying in your book-case? +Silk--and batiste?" + +"Silk? Do you mean the samples?" + +"No, not samples. A piece, a big piece, exactly the same as the one you +gave me.... For whom?..." + +She stared into Vladimir's face. + +"You want to know for whom it is? Can't you guess, really?" + +"No." + +"Ivan Ivanovitch asked me to get the same stuff for his fiancée. He +wants to have everything I have, you know. He copies me in everything." + +He explained it so simply, so calmly, that the blood rushed to Vasya's +face. She was ashamed of herself. + +"Ivan Ivanovitch? His fiancée? And I thought...." + +"What did you think?" laughed Vladimir, turning to face her. + +"You dear sweet darling of mine! My Volodyka." + +Vasya kissed him. How could she have thought of such a thing? How could +she have doubted him? Suspected her friend? + +"Why, what did you think? Oh, you little detective! Such a +cross-examiner." + +Volodya put his arms about Vasya. But his eyes seemed worried. + +"And now to bed, no more kissing. We'll have a hard time getting +through with our work tomorrow anyway, on account of the guests. We'll +have to get up early." + +He put out the light. + +Vasya felt a load off her heart. But the moment he was asleep the +serpent stirred again. Why did he call me a little detective? And a +cross-examiner? There must be something to be found out! + +Vladimir slept soundly. But Vasya lay there curled up like a porcupine, +wide awake, staring into the dark. + +To believe or not to believe? To believe or not to believe? + + * * * * * + +The syndicate people had gone. Now Vladimir's work was doubled. The +work of reorganization caused him endless worries. But there had +been a joyful compensation. Michailo Pavlovitch had called Vasya +to his room, and told her of some secret instructions from the +Central Administration. As the manager could not be accused of any +real offense, and as the whole thing practically amounted only to +insubordination and improper behavior, the matter was to be hushed up +as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. + +Vasya drew a breath of relief, almost fell back into her old habit of +saying "Thank God." She barely succeeded in controlling herself. + +Michailo Pavlovitch was glad, too. On Vasya's account. He liked her, +and felt sorry for her. + +Vasya, however, was unsuccessful. The accounting department had +decided in favor of the management. The girls of the hemp-binding shop +grew restless. A strike seemed imminent. Working under the cloak of +Bolsheviki unaffiliated with the Party, the Mensheviki were doing their +best to fan the flames. + +Although she coughed and felt feverish, she was at the works every day. +She fought against the management, insisted, demanded concessions. +Then, again, she sought to calm the shop girls. And her work absorbed +her so completely that she forgot the blue silk entirely. She had no +time for it. Only once did the serpent in her heart give a sign of +life; it had gained a firm foothold there and wasn't easy to drive out. + +This time it was the dog, the white poodle. + +Vasya, the boy, had brought it home. It wore a silk bow between its +ears. + +"Whose dog is that? Why did you bring it here? Where does it come from?" + +Vasya replied that Vladimir Ivanovitch had given him orders to keep the +dog in the house for the time being. It belonged to Savelyev, who had +gone out of town, leaving the poodle alone and neglected in the empty +house. + +Surprised, Vasya wondered about Vladimir's sudden liking for dogs. Did +he want to do Savelyev a favor? And her resentment against Savelyev was +aroused again. Why did Vladimir continue being friends with him, with +this speculator, this thief? + +When Vladimir came, the poodle rushed to meet him as though it had +found a long-lost master. Petting it, Vladimir began to talk to it. + +"Where does the dog come from, Volodya? Is it Savelyev's?" + +"Why, no! It belongs to Ivan Ivanovitch's fiancée. She's gone out of +town and Ivan Ivanovitch asked me to keep it here for a while." + +"But Vasya said it belongs to Savelyev." + +"Nonsense! It's true that the dog was in Savelyev's house for the past +few days. Vasya took it from there. That's why he thinks it belongs to +Savelyev." + +Vasya listened as if she understood everything clearly. + +But the serpent stirred, gripped her heart in its coils. Should she +believe him? + +The moment Ivan Ivanovitch came Vasya flew at him. Whose poodle was it? + +With great detail, Ivan Ivanovitch told her of his fiancée, who had +asked him to care for her poodle. But how could he do it? He never was +at home. So he sent it to Savelyev. There, however, there were only the +servants, who would go away and lock the poodle in the house. + +It might have been true. + +But Vasya didn't like the poodle. + + * * * * * + +Vladimir Ivanovitch had gone away for a few days. Something about the +syndicate. Vasya was alone. She had thought she would be lonely and +sad. But it was different. Though she was alone she seemed to feel +happier, more free. She was relieved of the burden which, in Vladimir's +presence, weighted her down like a stone. And she no longer felt the +depressing disregard of Volodya, who ignored her as if she didn't exist +at all. She knew he was busy, that his head was full of other things; +but her heart, her silly woman's heart was sad, longed for affection. + +She was better off without Vladimir. When she was alone there was +nothing to do about it. She expected nothing, listened for nothing, +didn't feel hurt. + +She invited her friends to her house: Lisa Sorokina, the factory boys, +Michailo Pavlovitch. She gave a supper party. She was happy when she +entertained her friends. + +After supper they discussed Party affairs, went into the garden, sang +together. It was beautiful. Everyone was gay, but Vasya most of all. +Quite different, this, from the conversations with the syndicate +people, or with Savelyev, in the drawing room. She hardly noticed how +quickly the days of Vladimir's absence passed. + +He came home on an early morning train, and found Vasya at the tea +table. + +Jumping to her feet, Vasya hurried to meet him. He didn't kiss her, but +he pressed her hand to his lips for a long time. When he raised his +head she saw tears in his eyes. Her heart grew heavy. + +"What's the matter, Volodya? Has something happened again?" + +"No, Vasya, nothing's happened. It's only ... life is so hard for me, +Vasya. I'm so tired of it all." + +He sat down at the table, leaned his head on his hand, and let his +tears flow freely. + +"But what's the trouble, Volodya? What is it? Please tell me, dear, +you'll feel better." + +"Will I, Vasya?" he asked wretchedly. "I've been turning it over and +over in my mind; I've been wondering ... I've gone through so much, +Vasya. No, things can't become better. There's no way out." + +And again Vasya's heart was convulsed in an agony of fear. + +"Don't torment me, Volodya! Tell me the truth. I can't go on this way +any longer. I'm tired--I can't rest...." + +She could not go on, for she began to cough. + +"There! You're coughing again! How can I talk to you?" Was it a +reproach or was it sorrow that she heard in Volodya's voice? + +And Vasya coughed. His annoyance plainly showing in his face, Vladimir +lighted a cigarette. + +"Why don't you drink some tea? That might stop it," he advised her. + +"No, I'll take some of my medicine." + +Her fit of coughing over, Vasya gave Vladimir some tea, and he told her +again, in his ordinary tone, how difficult it was to keep things going. +The shipping clerks had just raised a row. They demanded higher pay for +overtime, although their usual wages had been reduced. The syndicate +was losing money on their account, but they were threatening to strike +if their pay was not raised. Possibly it was the work of agitators. +After all, one could not see everything. + +"Ivan Ivanovitch came with his report the moment I stepped out of the +train, and you expect me to be happy! I go away for a couple of days, +and I come back to find a fight on my hands. What in the world do the +other members of the administration do? They shouldn't have let the +matter go so far. Now there'll be trouble. And the Chairman has found +something new, too." + +"So that's why you said life was so hard, and that there's no way out? +On account of the shipping clerks?" + +"Why, of course! What did you think?" + +Puffing at his cigarette, Vladimir slowly stirred his tea, and spoke +of the dispute again. How could it be smoothed over without a public +scandal? But Vasya listened only half-heartedly. Should she believe +him? Had he really wept only on account of the shipping clerks? It +wasn't like him. He had something else on his mind. The blue silk ... +Vladimir might really be tired. The S. C. had tormented him so that +now every little thing could make him lose control of himself. She was +trying to convince herself, to believe that Vladimir's worries were of +a purely business nature. It was the members of the administration who +were to blame for this business of the shipping clerks. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + +At last Vasya had carried her point at the hemp-binding works. She had +succeeded in obtaining concessions from the management. The shop girls +were jubilant, escorted Vasya to her door. But she knew that matters +would never have turned out so well without the Chairman. She had come +to esteem him. He was inflexible, and anything but indulgent toward the +economists. + +When she reached her house Vasya found the entire courtyard full of +shipping clerks. A babel of voices, disputing, shouting. "The highest +rates! No concessions! Or we'll stop work! Let the managers and office +clerks do the loading!" + +Vasya mingled with the crowd, listening, asking questions. + +They recognized her, surrounded her, drowned her voice. Everybody +wanted to tell her all about it at once. Their pay was too low, +and they got nothing for overtime. The accounts were not drawn up +correctly. They crowded about Vasya, uttered threats against the +management. Wasn't she the manager's wife? Let her explain the whole +business to him. There could be no family considerations in a case of +this sort. + +Vasya listened and asked questions. She knew and understood their +grievances well. The managers and office employes were well treated +and well fed, but the shipping clerks were slaves. Their children had +nothing to wear. Things couldn't be permitted to go on that way; the +union would have to exert pressure on the management. Nothing could be +done without organization and a program. The leaders came forward to +arrive at an understanding with Vasya. They would state their demands +on paper. And if the management were to refuse all concessions, they +would appeal directly to the accounting department. + +Vasya's blood was up. Forgetting her position as the manager's +wife she took the shipping clerks' cause as her own. How could she +help supporting "her own people" with word and deed? They were an +inexperienced mob, inefficiently led. + +She asked the leaders into the house, there to formulate their demands. + +They went in, the shipping clerks looking askance at the manager's +house furnishings as they went through the reception rooms into Vasya's +bedroom. Only then it occurred to Vasya that she should not have +brought the men into the house. But it was too late to turn back. + +They sat down at Vasya's table and drew up their demands. + +There was less noise in the courtyard, no more shouting. The men had +separated into groups, were talking and smoking. + +Then suddenly the uproar began again. An auto had stopped before the +house. The manager. He was entering the courtyard. + +"What sort of business is this? You're holding a meeting here? You've +come here to make threats? You're dissatisfied?" Vladimir's voice +rumbled like thunder. "I haven't the slightest intention of negotiating +with you here! This is my private residence. Go to the office. You +don't like the accounting? Go to the union! The management has nothing +to do with that. It has other things to worry about. You're going to +strike? That's your affair. Go ahead and strike, if the union says so. +But get out of here this very moment. I won't listen to you. I'll see +you in the office!" + +Vladimir banged the door, and, going through the house, went directly +to Vasya, to the bedroom. + +When he came in he stopped as though paralyzed. Vasya was sitting at +the table with the shipping clerks, "drawing up" demands. + +"And what's this? Who let you in here? How did you dare come in here +without permission? Get out of here! Get out!" + +"But Vladimir Ivanovitch, we didn't come in on our own hook.... Your +wife...." + +"Get out, I say, or...." + +Vladimir was white as a sheet; he was raising his arm. The men +retreated toward the door. + +"Are you crazy, Vladimir? How dare you! I called them in! Stop, +Comrades! Where are you going?" + +Vasya ran after them, but Vladimir stepped in her way and grasped her +arm so tightly that she cried out. + +"You invited them? Who gave you permission? Who asked you to meddle in +my affairs? You're not responsible to the syndicate! If you want to +start any strikes, go to your hemp-binding works!" + +"Oh! So you're driving me away? Because I'm siding with my brothers. +Because I want the truth. Because I don't consider your managerial +interests, because I lower your bonus." + +"You should be ashamed of yourself. You disgusting hypocrite." + +Vasya felt as if he had lashed her with a whip. Disgusting? She, Vasya, +was disgusting? + +They faced each other furiously, like enemies. But her heart was filled +with agonizing, excruciating pain. Was her happiness gone forever? + +The shipping clerks had dispersed, and Vladimir had gone to the office. +Lying across the bed, her face buried in the quilt, Vasya was letting +her tears wet the silk. But her sorrow could not be relieved by tears. + +She was heart-broken, not at his having called her disgusting, but at +their estrangement, their inability to understand each other. Like +enemies, in two hostile camps. + +The days that followed were dismal, cheerless. Vladimir spent much time +at home. But what good did that do? They were just like strangers, +spoke only when it was absolutely necessary. Each lived his own life. +Vasya was ill again. Ivan Ivanovitch had gone for the doctor, who had +ordered a complete rest for her, and had forbidden all excitement. + +Vladimir was very busy with his work. He would sit up half the night +in his study with Ivan Ivanovitch and the bookkeeper. They would come +out for supper, but their thoughts were wrapped in their business; they +were taciturn and in bad humor. + +Occasionally Lisa Sorokina would visit Vasya to tell her about the +hemp-binding works. The girls were sorry that she was ill. + +Yet her illness did not distress Vasya as much as the knowledge that +she and Volodya had become estranged. Neither could forget the quarrel +about the shipping clerks. Neither could forgive the other. + +Vasya thought of going home to her province. She wanted to be back +home. But where could she go? Grusha was living in her attic under the +roof; it would be very crowded for two. She could not think of going to +her parents to recuperate, for they would weep over her, and would rail +against the Bolsheviki. Where, then? Vasya wrote to Grusha, asking her +to get a room for her. And she wrote to Stepan Alexeyevitch, asking +him to procure some work for her, with the Party, with the masses. She +would go as soon as she heard from them. Why should she stay here? No +one needed her. Volodya would get along without her. The days dragged, +slowly, heavily. + +It was midsummer. The cherries in the garden were ripe; the plums were +covered with a purplish bloom. The lilies, white and delicate, shone +on their tall, dewy stalks. But nothing delighted Vasya now. As she +wandered through the garden she would remember how she had lain in the +chaise longue in the spring, how glad she had been that she was alive. +And the memory made her heart even heavier. + +She felt as if she had been quite another Vasya then, a young, +confiding Vasya. Something had gone out of her. What was it? She didn't +know exactly. But this much was certain. It had gone out of her, and +would never come back. + +Sometimes Vladimir would stand at the window and watch Vasya walking +about the garden, indifferent, drooping. He would stand at the window a +while; then, turning away abruptly, would return to Ivan Ivanovitch and +his work. + +Then Vasya would sigh with fresh disappointment. She had expected him +to come down to her, to the garden. And he hadn't come. There it was. +It was clear that he had no more feeling for her. To him business was +more important than the anguish of a woman's heart. + + * * * * * + +Some noise woke Vasya. It was morning. Vladimir was rummaging in his +wardrobe, taking out something. + +"What are you doing there so early, Volodya?" + +"I have to meet a train, there's a consignment coming in." + +"Must you go yourself?" + +"I have to supervise." + +Vladimir was standing before the mirror, putting on his new tie; but he +couldn't quite manage it. As Vasya looked at him she suddenly felt once +more that he was so close, so deeply bound to her. + +"Come here, Volodya. Let me help you." + +He came obediently, sat down on the bed. Vasya made his tie. They +looked at each other, and suddenly, without a word, they were in each +other's arms. + +"My little Vasyuk! My darling. It hurts so to live beside you, and yet +so terribly far away. Can't it be different?" he asked plaintively, +pressing Vasya's curly head to his breast. + +"Do you think it doesn't hurt me? I don't want to live any more." + +"But why do we quarrel, Vasyuk?" + +"I don't know. There's some barrier between us." + +"No, Vasya. No, nothing can stand between us. My heart is all yours, +only yours." + +"And you haven't stopped loving me?" + +"You silly little thing." He kissed her. "Come, let's stop quarreling. +It's stupid, and makes both of us suffer. And I can't afford to lose +you, Vasya. I can't live without you. So now we won't hurt each other +any more?" + +"You won't try to play a managerial rôle any more?" + +"And you won't set the shipping clerks against me?" + +They laughed. + +"But now you go to sleep. If you don't sleep you'll be sick again for +the day. I'll be back in about two hours." + +Covering her, he kissed her eyes and went. Vasya felt happy, light of +heart. She fell asleep as if all her joy had come back to her, as if +she had lost nothing. + +Vladimir didn't come back from the station, but telephoned that he +would have to go to the office. He would be back for dinner. Vasya was +feeling better, but she didn't go to the hemp-binding works. Instead, +she busied herself about the house, helping Marya Semyonovna to +straighten up the house. + +Not long before dinner the telephone rang. Vasya answered. + +"Hello." + +"Is Vladimir Ivanovitch at home?" + +"No, not yet. Who's speaking?" + +"The administrative office." + +"But why do you call here? He's still in your office." + +"No, he's not here; he left the office some time ago. Please forgive +me." + +That woman's voice again. Who was it? Vasya didn't like that voice. +During the first few days of her stay it had called often. Then it had +stopped. Vasya once asked Ivan Ivanovitch, quite casually, who it might +be that was forever telephoning from the office, and during working +hours at that. Ivan Ivanovitch explained that it was the clerks. Queer, +that their voices should be so much alike. And again Vasya felt the +serpent's fangs. + +Vladimir brought home two members of the administration for dinner. + +They discussed the morning's consignments. Nevertheless he found time +to ask how Vasya was feeling, whether she had been sunning herself, as +the doctor had ordered. + +"No, I didn't lie in the sun." + +Dryly Vasya brought the conversation to a close, adding carelessly: + +"The young lady who's forever phoning you from the office called again." + +"What young lady?" Vladimir looked surprised. "From the office, you +say? Then it must be the Shelgunov woman--some young lady, that one! A +venerable materfamilias. You've seen her, Vasya--the fat woman with the +wart on her face." + +He spoke so simply, so naturally. But Vasya felt uneasy. + +No. Something was wrong there. + +After dinner the gentlemen of the management went away. Vasya was +glad. She wanted to be alone with Vladimir, to warm her spirit. The +morning's promise of joy would be fulfilled. + +But the guests had hardly left when the telephone buzzed in the study. +Vladimir went to answer it. + +"Yes, it's I." Curtly, "Didn't I ask you not to telephone?" + +A short laugh. "Family matters, of course." Reproachfully, "By no +means, I forbid it most decidedly." Vehemently, "All right, all right." +Relenting, "But not for long. Good-bye." + +Vasya was in the next room, listening. + +With whom was he speaking? Whom did he promise: "But not for long?" To +whom could he say: "I forbid it." + +Vladimir went from the study straight into the bedroom, passing Vasya +as though he didn't see her. She followed him. He was standing before +the mirror, combing his hair. + +"To whom were you speaking, Volodya?" + +"To Savelyev." + +"To Savelyev? Has he come back?" + +"This morning." + +"Did you meet him?" + +"Look here, what sort of cross-examination is this? You know I was +supervising the unloading of a shipment this morning." He seemed +disturbed. + +"And you're going to him right away? Did you promise?" + +"Yes, I'm going there." + +Silence. + +Vasya felt her heart hammering, pounding. As if it would burst. If only +it would. She could endure this agony no longer. She went quickly over +to Vladimir, gently took his hand. "Don't do that, Volodya. Don't start +that business again...." + +"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, uneasily. + +"Don't have anything to do with that crooked speculator. I've been +warned. After all, that's the principal thing they have against you, +your association with objectionable people." + +"Ah. There you go again. Talking like one of your Supervisory +Committee. Do you insist on tormenting me? Tyrannizing me? Do you want +to tie me to your apron strings?" + +Flushed, he pushed Vasya's hand away. + +"Stop, Vladimir. Stop. What did you say? Did I ever attempt to chain +you to me? Try to keep your head. I'm talking about you, not myself. +Don't dig a pit for yourself. You have enemies enough. And if you +resume your friendship with Savelyev...." + +"What has Savelyev to do with this?" + +"What do you mean? What has he to do with this? Aren't you going to +him?" Vasya's eyes were troubled. + +"Of course I'm going to him. But what of it? Can't you understand that +I'm going to him on business? It can't be helped." + +"I don't believe you," she cried hotly. "Postpone it for tomorrow, tell +him to come to the office." + +"What a child you are, Vasya," he said, altering his tone. "All right, +I'll tell you the truth. It's true that Savelyev didn't call me over to +discuss business. That can be attended to in the office. He's simply +having a jolly little crowd at his house. And he asked me to come over +for a game of cards. You know yourself, Vasya, that I went nowhere for +almost a month. I was at home, and taken up with business, all the +time. Let me get a breath of air for a change, Vasya. I'm young. I want +to live. I can't be a hermit." + +"I understand, Volodya," she said sadly. "Yes, everything's as you +say. And your getting a little diversion is no calamity. But you must +understand one thing. You mustn't start up again with this Savelyev, +this speculating scoundrel. You have no respect for him yourself. What +do you need him for? People will be saying right away that Vladimir +Ivanovitch and Savelyev are hand and glove again. And then the whole +business'll start all over again. Volodya darling. Please don't go +there today. Cancel it." + +"What nonsense!" Volodya was losing his patience. "If the Provincial +Committee has nothing to do but take legal action against a fellow +because of his acquaintances, then it's no Provincial Committee but a +cesspool. You're exaggerating, Vasya." + +"But I don't like to see you go there. I know he can't stand me. He +asks you over only to hurt me. Didn't I hear you say over the phone +that you couldn't come on account of your family? And then you laughed. +Volodya...." She was becoming agitated. "It hurts me to see you +laughing with a stranger about me, and with Savelyev at that. As if I +didn't let you go." + +"Well. You don't." + +"So that's how you put it. Very well, then, go! But remember ...," her +eyes flashed. "Remember that my patience is at an end. I've helped +you, suffered for you, stood up for you. That's enough. Go if you want +to. But then I'll know what I have to do." Her voice rose to a shrill, +hysterical shriek. + +"I'm sick of your hysterics! Why do you nag me--what do you want of me?" + +"Volodya!" There were tears in Vasya's voice. "I've never asked you for +anything. But today I beg you to stay. For your sake, and mine." + +"Oh, you women. You're all the same. Disgusting." Rushing past her, he +hurried through the hall; the front door banged. The motor purred. + + * * * * * + +"I've come to you, Lisa. Take me in. I've gone away from him forever." + +Her voice failed her, but her eyes were dry. Her misery was too great +for tears. + +"You've come away from him? You should have done it long ago! We've all +been wondering that you've stood it so long...." + +"We've become estranged, Lisa. That's the terrible thing," wailed Vasya. + +"Of course. How in the world can you love him?" + +Vasya ignored the question. She could hardly believe what had happened. +She could never forgive, never forget this indignity. It had been the +first time she had begged him for something. And what had he done? He +might just as well have walked over her dead body. And why? Why? To +play cards with that thief, that speculator, Savelyev, and a crowd of +his filthy fellows! It was all the same to him that Vasya was dying of +grief. As long as he was having a good time, as long as he was getting +the entertainment he wanted. Was that love? Was that her friend and +comrade? Was that a Communist? + +Lisa was unable to make head or tail out of Vasya's incoherent speech. +What had happened? What did Savelyev have to do with it? + +"What does he have to do with it? Why, it was all on his account, on +account of that crooked speculator. Vladimir went to him." + +"You think he went to him?" + +"Why, to whom do you think? Don't you believe it?" + +"But what is there to believe? The whole town knows it; only you seem +to be blind. Or do you refuse to see it? Do you refuse to realize it?" + +"See what, Lisa? Tell me!" + +"Why, that your Vladimir has a friend!" + +"A friend?" + +Vasya did not understand at once, but stared at Lisa. She was neither +shocked nor grieved, but only surprised. + +"A friend you say. Who is it?" + +"Not one of us, not a working-girl. One of the office employees." + +"Do you know her?" + +"I've seen her. The whole town knows her." + +"Why?" + +"She's always so dressed up. That's why the Comrades are so angry at +your Vladimir. Michailo Pavlovitch told you of this friendship, too. +How could you help knowing about it? You're not so stupid otherwise. +But in this affair you've acted like a real goose!" + +Vasya, however, was concerned with something quite different. + +"Does he love her?" + +"How should I know? He must love her; he's been running around with her +for so many months. People thought the affair would stop when you came. +But nothing of the sort. He's forever going to her in his car." + +"Does she have a home of her own?" + +"The chances are it's more elaborate than yours." + +So that's what it was. "He's keeping up two households." + +Now Vasya understood everything. Everything but one point. Why had +Volodya lied to her, tormented her, deceived her? + +"What do you expect? Was he to come to you as the contrite sinner? +Or was he to beg you for permission to visit his friend? It was your +business to see it. If you didn't, you were a fool, and have only +yourself to blame." + +"Why do you insist on talking about my being a fool, Lisa? That's not +important. The question is this: Does he really love her, or does it +only look like it?" + +"How do you mean? I don't know what you're talking about! He must love +her. Doesn't he support her entirely, and give her expensive presents?" + +"Do you think so? But, you see, I don't know...." + +"You surely don't believe that he loves you? Don't fool yourself, +Vasya. It'll only hurt you all the more. He likes and esteems you, of +course. You're his wife and comrade. But as for loving you. That was +over long ago. I know." + +Vasya shook her head. "But, you see, I don't agree with you." + +Her stupidity annoyed Lisa, who now told her about Volodya's friend. +Beautiful as a picture. And her clothes. Always dressed in silks and +always surrounded by admirers. Savelyev was one of them; knew her well. +It was very gay there in the evening. And there were rumors that both +Vladimir and Savelyev were keeping her. + +For some reason or other this idea was particularly distasteful to +Vasya. + +Had Vladimir actually changed so? Could he really love a woman like +that? Vasya didn't believe the stories she heard. She didn't believe +them. Something was wrong there. + +Lisa, however, was offended. "All right, don't believe me. It's your +own affair. Ask anybody; everyone'll tell you the same thing. She +was in the office as Savelyev's secretary, until she let the manager +keep her. But it's possible that others are making use of her, too. +They're talking about Ivan Ivanovitch, too. And some members of the +administration visit there occasionally. She's a real one, only not +registered. Her luck that they don't have to have permits nowadays." + +"But Vladimir would never have fallen in love with a woman like that," +objected Vasya. + +"Why do you think that? Men like that kind, especially men like your +Vladimir. You can see it in his face: the worse the woman, the better +he'll like her." + +"Be still, Lisa! How dare you! You don't know him. How can you judge +him like this?" + +"Why do you stand up for him? Didn't he make you the laughing-stock of +the town? But you, you defend him like a fortress!" + +"Made me a laughing-stock! And how, if you please? What have Vladimir's +actions to do with me? I'm not responsible for him. You don't +understand, Lisa. That isn't why I'm suffering. That's not it at all." + +"I know. You're suffering because he doesn't love you any more." + +"No, Lisa, that's not it, either. It hurts, of course. But it's not the +most important thing. I know what I mean, but I can't find the words. +What is it? We were such comrades, so close and intimate and suddenly +you say: Vladimir turned away from me, lied to me, was afraid of me. Of +me! How could he? Would I have stood in his way? Would I have kept him +from his love? He couldn't, Volodya couldn't think that! There must be +something else. He can't love that girl so much." + +"Now you're beating about the bush," said Lisa, waving her away +angrily. "It's impossible to talk to you. You're still in love with +Volodya: 'Strike me, wipe your feet on me--it's all the same to me, I'm +still your obedient wife--I'll lick your boots'--I'm not like that. I'd +have got even with him long ago. I'd have given him something to think +about." + +Vasya didn't deny it. But the more Lisa condemned Vladimir, the more +ardently Vasya defended him. She wanted to convince Lisa that he was +wrong not in taking a friend, not in loving another woman, but only in +his not having told her, Vasya, about it. As if she weren't his friend +and comrade, but a stranger. What was more, she meant less to him than +a stranger, for he had no faith in her. Did he think that she would +fight for her rights like a legitimate wife? + +"You must fight for them," shouted Lisa. "Of course you must fight for +them. How dared he make you ridiculous? Then you surely must leave him." + +Vasya objected. It was always like that. In her heart she often +condemned Vladimir, disagreed with him entirely. But the moment some +one else attacked him she took his side and grew indignant. People +didn't understand him. She alone knew Vladimir, the American. Only when +she said "The American" did the tears come. She remembered Vladimir, +the American, leading the members of their group, fighting for the +Soviet. + +Weeping, she fell in Lisa's arms. She was not thinking of Vladimir, the +manager, but she was mourning for the "American," was suffering for him +inconsolably, mortally. + +"It's so hard for me, Lisenyka. I'm exhausted." + +"I know, darling. Only be patient. It'll pass. I went through the same +thing last year. But when we meet nowadays it doesn't bother me at all." + + * * * * * + +Vasya was unable to sleep, although Lisa had given her her own bed, +sleeping on a couple of chairs herself. Lisa had worked all day; now +she was sleeping soundly. Vasya turned restlessly from side to side, +now sitting up, now lying down again. She couldn't rest. Countless +thoughts raced through her head, tortured and broke her heart. It was +like that dreadful night when she had found the bandage, when Vladimir +had been arrested. + +It wasn't jealousy that was tormenting her. But Volodya's lack of +confidence hurt her. If not for that, she would forgive everything. Man +cannot control his heart. But Vasya did not believe that he loved the +other girl. She did not believe it. It was only a "liaison." For months +he had lived alone, he of the ardent temperament. (She remembered +Styosha.) He had begun an affair with her, and it went on. She probably +wouldn't let him go. Lisa, too, said he was a ladies' man. And if it +was that, it couldn't be a case of love. Therefore she was looking out +for her own advantage. Volodya would have liked to tear himself away, +but he could not. Vasya remembered how moody, how variable he had been; +now loving, now distant. He had suffered agonies. How could one live +with the person one loved while the other was sharpening the knife +behind his back? She remembered how frequently Vladimir had tried to +confess something, how he had always stopped short. He had been about +to say something on the morning of the clash with the shipping clerks. +Vasya had felt he had it on the tip of his tongue. She, too, had been +frightened, and unfortunately had begun to cough. Then Vladimir said +nothing more; did he, therefore, pity her? And if he pitied her, he +loved her. But did he love her? It was easy to say he did. But what +about the blue material? The same for both of them? + +"I have bought you a present, my beautiful sweetheart; and I haven't +forgotten that wearisome wife of mine. Here, take the silk, and say +nothing." + +Damn him! Vasya clenched her fists as though she wanted to fight with +Vladimir. She thought: so he didn't go to Savelyev yesterday? And +Savelyev had nothing to do with it. He had been only a screen. Had she +known that he had a friend who pretended to love him, she would not +have been angry with Vladimir. She would have been unhappy; still, +she would have understood. But to humiliate Vasya for that vulgar +speculator, Savelyev! She would have understood the affair with his +friend; yet, would she have forgiven? As she had forgiven him for the +nurse, for Styosha? Would she have been able to like the white poodle, +to forget the blue silk? + + + + + CHAPTER X + + +Lisa had hardly left for work in the morning when the door opened and +Marya Semyonovna appeared, a black lace shawl wrapped about her head. +She was gasping for breath. It was hot--midsummer. + +"Good morning, Vassilissa Dementyevna. I'm bringing you a letter from +your husband. He wanted me to take a cab, to get here faster. But where +can one be found nowadays? I'm all out of breath." + +As Vasya tore open the envelope bearing the address of the office, her +fingers seemed petrified. + + "Vasya! What does this mean? What are you doing to me? Why do + you torture me so unmercifully? Do you want a scandal throughout + the district to give my enemies new material to ruin me? You've + often said you were my friend; but you've joined my foes. You've + destroyed my soul. I can't go on with this life. If you no longer + love me, say so openly. Why do you stab me from behind? You + know I love only you. Everything else everyone says about me is + nonsense, ephemeral. Listen to me! I swear to you that I was not + with Savelyev yesterday! I swear to you that I kept faith with you + where I was yesterday. My heart beats for you only. I'm all worn + out, Vasya. Have pity. Come to me, let me look into your dear eyes + and tell you everything. The whole truth! If you're my friend and + comrade, you'll come. If not--then, good-bye. But this you must + know: that I won't live without you. + + "Your wretched Volodya." + +Vasya read the letter twice. Now her heart was filled with tenderness, +and the tears welled up in her eyes. "Ephemeral." "I love only you." +Then again she raged: She had "tortured" him! He asked her to pity him! +Had he had pity with her? Had he not tormented her? Her eyes were dry, +her pale lips pressed together in a thin line. + +"Wretched!" You don't say! Wretched! All night long he had made love +to another woman; he had given her blue silk. How she had begged him +yesterday: Stay! She had put all her soul into her eyes. But he had +pushed her away; had shouted at her like a real lawful husband, and had +gone. Now he wrote: "I love only you!" He was lying. He did not love +her. A fine sort of love, that! Only pain and bitterness! Yet why had +he written "Good-bye! But this you must know: that I won't live without +you." Surely he wouldn't...? Nonsense. It was merely a threat, to make +her relent, to make her come to him at once, like a fool. + +She read the letter once more. + +In the meanwhile Marya Semyonovna sat there quite unconcerned, wiping +off her perspiration, fanning herself with her handkerchief. + +"Vladimir Ivanovitch came home yesterday almost as soon as you had +gone. He asked where you were. He went into the study and began to +write. About midnight he came into the kitchen to ask whether you had +come back. 'No,' I said, and he went away. Then he took Ivan Ivanovitch +to the door, and went into the bedroom. He must have seen your note +there. I heard him crying like a heart-broken little child. And he +didn't lie down all night, but walked around all the time. This morning +he didn't even drink tea. 'I don't want anything,' he said to me. Go +and look for Vassilissa Dementyevna. Go to all her friends, till you +find her. Don't you dare come back without her!'" + +Vasya listened, aching with the old love for Vladimir. He had waited +for her alone through the night, had wept and suffered, had called +her, Vasya. And how hard it had been for her. How she had yearned for +him. She had been jealous. So the threads that had bound their hearts +together were not broken; their love was not gone entirely! Why prolong +the agony? Should she go back? Back to him for a good talk? + +"What was Vladimir Ivanovitch doing when you left? Was he going to the +office?" + +"When I left? Why, he was just telephoning to the 'little lady,' +probably wanted to tell her his troubles. Or maybe he wanted her to +share in his joy. Who can understand these men? If only there'll be no +scandal!" + +He had called up the "little lady"? Now? At such a time? He had written +a letter to Vasya, and then telephoned to his lady? Lisa might be +right. He was clinging to Vasya only to avoid a scandal. If his wife +had not been held in such high esteem he would not have bothered about +her. And he was calling her only to humiliate her again. No! She had +had enough. She would not go to him, would not fall into the trap. Her +head was reeling. + +"Tell Vladimir Ivanovitch that there's no answer. That's all. And +hurry. Please go!" + +"I can't go any faster. And it doesn't pay to hurry in such things. You +should have thought of this before, Vassilissa Dementyevna. Of course, +Vladimir Ivanovitch did wrong by you, for you're his wife; but you +aren't altogether in the right either. Who would leave such a young man +all alone for months? And if you think about it, Vladimir Ivanovitch +is a good husband after all. Always worrying about you. Always wanting +to know whether you're drinking your cocoa, whether I've fetched fresh +eggs for you. He cares more for your clothes than you do. He's never +refused you anything. And where women are concerned--who is blameless +there? You're his wife; people respect you. But on the other side? He +pays her and gives her presents--that's all." + +As Marya Semyonovna spoke Vasya's heart was growing heavier. How simple +everything would be if she, too, could think that. But Marya Semyonovna +did not understand just what had hurt her. Vladimir was no longer her +friend. She had lost faith in him; and how could they live together +without faith? + +"Don't you think you ought to wait till evening, Vassilissa +Dementyevna? Couldn't I go home and tell your husband that you want to +think things over, and will give your answer in the evening? That'd +be more sensible. But to talk this way, deciding on the spur of the +moment----. It's easy to make a mistake when you're angry. I want to +save you regrets and tears." + +"No, Marya Semyonovna. Don't try to persuade me. It'll be as I've said. +I'm never coming back. It's all over." + +Her lips trembled as she spoke, and big tears rolled slowly down her +hollow cheeks. + +"Well, it's your own business. I've said enough. You have to do the +deciding!" And Marya Semyonovna went. + +Again Vasya wanted to moan like a wounded animal, to sob loudly so that +she could be heard throughout the house and on the street; for it was +all over. There was no going back. Farewell, Volodya. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +Vasya wept inconsolably, until finally she fell asleep, buried in +Lisa's pillow. For she had not closed her eyes all night. + +She was awakened by the sound of an auto chugging away under her window. + +Whose car? She jumped to her feet. Was Vladimir coming for her? Hope +and joy awoke in her heart. She pushed the window open--Vasya, the boy, +was standing at the door. + +"Vassilissa Dementyevna, something terrible has happened. Vladimir +Ivanovitch has taken poison." + +"How? What?" Vasya flew over to the boy, seized his hand. "Is he dead?" + +"No, not yet. He's still alive. But he's writhing; he's in agony. He's +calling for you. Ivan Ivanovitch sent me in the car." + +Hatless, barely dressed, Vasya entered the auto. Her teeth were +chattering, she was trembling as from a fever. + +She had killed him! Had hurt him mortally! She had refused her pity and +her help. And he had begged for her in the morning--how he had begged +for her! + +She stared before her with wide-open eyes. They expressed not sorrow, +but death, the inevitable. + +Vasya didn't see her eyes. He was telling, with an important air, +just what had occurred. He liked the idea of such interesting things +happening. + +Vladimir Ivanovitch had gone to the office in the morning; then, after +half an hour, he had come home. He had gone into the study, and Vasya +had seen him going to the closet where he kept samples of dyes that +were being tested for their stability. Then Vasya was busy sweeping in +the courtyard. When he had finished and returned to the house, he heard +someone groaning in the study. He went in to see what was wrong. There +was Vladimir Ivanovitch lying on the sofa, only the whites of his eyes +showing, his mouth open and foaming. And then the fun began.... + +Vasya had run for the doctor, who lived around the corner. He was just +eating. But Vasya told him how matters stood: "The man's dying, you can +eat later." Vasya had to make two hurried trips to the druggist in the +car. Ivan Ivanovitch came over. The whole house was turned upside down. + +Vasya listened without hearing a word. She herself was more dead than +alive. Nothing remained but Vladimir and his sufferings. They filled +her mind completely. If Volodya should die her life would be at an end, +too. There would be only emptiness, an emptiness more dreadful than the +grave. + +She entered the house with the boy. Ivan Ivanovitch was just taking the +doctor to the door. + +"Is he alive?" + +"We're doing everything possible. We won't be able to know anything +definite before the morning." + +She tiptoed into the bedroom. Vladimir's groans became more and more +distinct. She seemed to be moaning herself. Could Vladimir be detached +from her, from Vasya? The bedroom was changed, different. The rug was +rolled up, the bed had been moved. But the bed was empty. Where was +Volodya? Something big, white, long lay on the divan. Its face was a +bluish gray, its eyes were closed. The moaning stopped. + +What was that? Was he dead? + +"Volodya! Volodya!" + +The physician turned on her furiously. + +"Silence! No hysterics!" + +Assisted by a white-capped nurse, the doctor was busy with Vladimir. +Both looked grave and severe; they did not let Vasya come near Vladimir. + +He opened his eyes and breathed more rapidly; he was alive! + +"Doctor," Vasya whispered pleadingly, "tell me the truth. Is there any +hope?" + +"There's always hope as long as the heart is beating," the doctor +answered angrily, as if she were asking silly questions. + +What did that mean? "As long as the heart is beating?" And suppose it +should stop? + +But she asked nothing more. The doctor was busy; he and the nurse were +raising Vladimir's head, pouring something into his mouth. + +Once more Vladimir began to moan. Short, plaintive cries. Vasya +listened. She no longer felt anything, but was absolutely numb, as if +grief had paralyzed her senses, as if her being had stopped. + + * * * * * + +Twilight, and darkness. The night-lamp burning in the bedroom. Other +physicians came, consulted. The errand-boy was rushed to the Health +Bureau for special medicine. + +Vasya was not permitted to see Vladimir; nor did he ask for her. He +seemed unconscious, occasionally uttered short, sobbing moans. She +thought that as he moaned his spirit was leaving him, that his soul was +struggling against his body; but the body refused to liberate the soul. + +Helplessly superfluous, Vasya walked among the physicians, knowing of +nothing she could do. + +Suddenly it struck her like a thunderbolt: there must be rumors afloat +in the city. People would say: A Communist--and a suicide! Why? And the +gossiping would begin. She would have to hurry, hurry, to forestall +gossip. She would have to think of something. What happened and why? An +inspiration: mushrooms! He had had mushrooms for breakfast, and now he +was near death. She remembered such a case in her grandmother's village +while she had visited there. A tailor, who had come from the city to +visit his brother, had gathered some mushrooms himself, had cooked +them, eaten them, and died. + +Vasya began to telephone. Michailo Pavlovitch came first. She would +tell him the details when she saw him; now she merely wanted to tell +him of the tragedy. Briefly, it was this: Vladimir Ivanovitch had +been poisoned by mushrooms, and lay on the point of death. Then she +telephoned the Chairman, and other Comrades. + +She had prompted Ivan Ivanovitch, who was explaining matters to the +members of the administration, advising the office. And very minutely +she told Vasya, the errand-boy, and Marya Semyonovna what they would +have to say. Vasya, keen and quick-witted, curled his lip, shrugged his +shoulders, and said nothing. Let it be so! It was all the same to him. +Marya Semyonovna, however, was offended, pressed her lips together and +folded her hands over her apron. She refused to agree to the mushroom +story. + +"How can a man be poisoned so badly by mushrooms? Everybody'll say: +'Why wasn't the cook more careful?'" + +But Vasya insisted. The story had been told to everybody: he had eaten +mushrooms, and they had made him ill. + +"Have it your own way! But it wasn't a very clever idea. If it had been +something else--but mushrooms! Who would cook bad mushrooms?" + +Vasya left the kitchen. Marya Semyonovna, however, couldn't regain her +composure, banged about furiously with the pots. "Here they make a mess +of things, get everything all mixed up, and now I'm to blame. First +they make a bed the devil himself couldn't sleep in, and now I have to +lie in it, if you please! Marya Semyonovna is responsible! I can't tell +the difference between good and bad mushrooms! How can they insult a +person like that? I've been in the kitchen for twenty years--there's +no other cook like me; I'm as good as a chef! You should see my pile +of references. Even the late Madame Gollolobova, the general's wife, +who always was so proud, never called me anything but Marya Semyonovna; +and the Pokatilovs, the millionaires, gave me a gold watch and chain +for Christmas because my sauces were so good. And now just look at +what they've thought up! 'Marya Semyonovna gave the manager poisonous +mushrooms!' I didn't think such an outrage was possible. Didn't I do +everything I could? I felt sorry for this Vassilissa, never breathed a +word to her about her husband's sweetheart. But that's how people are! +Nothing but injustice! And they're Communists...!" + +"Why are you angry, Marya Semyonovna? Why do you feel offended?" Vasya +spoke thoughtfully, eating his soup the while with great relish. + +"Does it make any difference what they tell us to say? The truth will +out. You won't be held responsible; they've invented the story about +the mushrooms only to keep down the scandal. But I like it. It's an +interesting business! There's passion for you! What are the movies +compared to this?" + +"And you're having a good time, you silly boy! A person's dying, and +you think it's fun! What has the world come to! Nobody cares about +life. The least little thing happens, and--bing, bang--they've shot the +fellow. That's why people don't really want to live any more. It's all +because they've forgotten God!" + +"Oh, forget about God yourself! I'm not a Communist, but I don't +believe in God, either." + +"And it's wrong of you not to believe. There he sits and chatters +without doing any work. Why don't you help me clear away the plates? +These fellows, these doctors use up so many dishes. They're forever +wanting tea and everything else. God's will be done. That's what I told +that dressed-up minx, the maid of Vladimir Ivanovitch's sweetheart. I +was just finished with serving supper for the doctors when she comes +running in by the back door, rustling her skirts, wearing a little +batiste apron, sporting a butterfly on her head, and wagging her tail. +'My lady sent me to find out how Vladimir Ivanovitch is getting on.' +'He's getting on so well,' I said, 'that I guess he'll be standing +before his God pretty soon, for God punishes everyone for his sins. +But as for your mistress, that hussy, just tell her she'd better go to +church and do penance. After all, she's the only one who's to blame.'" + +In Vassilissa's presence, Marya Semyonovna was very silent. But the +moment she found someone else to talk to there was no stopping the +torrent of her words. + + * * * * * + +The house grew still. People had come during the day: members of the +administration, fellow workers; the physicians had been consulting. +Lisa shared the night-watch with Vasya, so that she would not be alone +as she suffered and waited for the end. Lisa felt that she, too, was +partly responsible; for she had aroused Vasya against Vladimir. + +"Don't say that, Lisa. I worked myself up against him. It took mortal +danger to make me realize that nothing in the world is dearer to me +than he. How can I live without him? His blood will be on my head." + +Her curly head supported on her hand, Vasya sat beside Vladimir's bed, +thinking. Suppose Volodya should die, so that she could no longer live +with him--what then? The Revolution? The Party? The Party could use +only those who had no crime on their conscience. But Vasya would never +be able to forget that she had killed Vladimir. If there had been +some good reason.... But because of a woman's jealousy. If he had had +crooked dealings with thieves like Savelyev, if he had acted against +the interests of the people, there would have been a reason. But to +make her friend die because of a woman! And such a friend! She had +thought he did not love her. But he must have loved her, since he had +gone to his death. So life without her meant nothing to him? In spite +of her sorrow this realization moved her to tears, to sweet, penitent +tears. Gazing at her beloved man, Vasya whispered tenderly: "Will you +forgive me, my darling? Will you be able to forget, my dear friend?" + +He stirred, moved his head restlessly. + +"Water.... Water...." + +Gently Vasya raised his head from the pillow, as the nurse had shown +her, and gave him water. + +Vladimir drank. His eyes opened and looked at her, but seemed not to +see her: + +"Do you feel better, Volodetchka?" + +She bent over him anxiously. + +He didn't answer. He opened his eyes and closed them again. + +"Is Ivan Ivanovitch here?" he asked feebly. + +"No, he's gone. Do you want him?" + +He nodded. "Call him--phone him." + +"But the doctor forbade you to bother about business." + +Vladimir looked impatient and fretful. + +"Please don't torment me, now at least. Get him." His eyes closed. + +Vasya felt a dagger. Why had he said that? "Please don't torment me, +now at least!" So he had not forgiven her for causing him this mortal +agony. + +She summoned Ivan Ivanovitch. + +When he came, Vladimir asked Vasya to leave him alone with Ivan +Ivanovitch. She went into the garden. + +The red roses had withered away, but the dahlias were in full bloom. +The sun was blazing down on her hands, her shoulders, her head. It no +longer caressed her as in the spring, but burned painfully. The garden +was neglected, the honeysuckle vines entwined the lilac bushes like +ivy. The sky was not blue--the heat made it look like molten silver. + +Vasya walked over the baking ground. + +No. Vladimir wouldn't forgive her! He would not forget. If she had come +when he called her that morning, nothing would have happened. Now she +had lost him--lost him forever. Not her adored lover, but her friend, +her comrade. Volodya would not trust her any more, would not lean on +her again. Vasya was standing beside the acacia tree that had been so +full of white blossoms in the spring. She closed her eyes. Why hadn't +she poisoned herself? Why did she still live? + +"Vassilissa Dementyevna, Vladimir Ivanovitch wants you," Ivan +Ivanovitch called to her as he entered the car and went away. + +Where was he going? Was he taking a message to Vladimir's friend? But +Vasya no longer cared. + +The past would never return. + + * * * * * + +It was hot. The scorching sun of summer was exhausting. The shades had +been lowered. Vladimir was sleeping; Vasya knelt at the foot of his +bed, driving away the flies. + +He had to sleep, to regain his strength. He had suffered enough. + +Vasya and Volodya were alone in the house; Marya Semyonovna had gone +shopping. Vasya, the boy, had been sent away. + +Vasya liked being alone with Volodya. She felt as if he belonged to +her, as if he were her property. He was so weak and helpless. + +If only he could understand, if only he could read her heart. He would +see how ardently she loved him, how she was suffering, how she longed +for his caresses, how her loneliness starved her. Why was Volodya +always so taciturn, so hostile toward her? He never looked into her +eyes. When she did not arrange the pillows quite properly he would say +irritably: "And that calls itself a nurse! She doesn't even know how to +fix the pillows." + +Of course, one can't expect much from a sick man; still--why was he +like that? Could he really not forgive her? Never? And if they stayed +together would it always be as now, lonely, dismal, bleak? + +She looked at Vladimir, at the dear, familiar face with its long +eye-lashes. Vasya had fallen in love with them at the very beginning. +And he had been captivated by her hair. But her hair was gone.... + +It was like the old fairy-tale. Her hair had bewitched him; when it was +cut off her lover left her. How they had loved each other then, in '17. +And later, when the White offensive began. The night when, together, +they arrested the conspirators. "If I fall, Vasya, don't lose a single +hour of your work; your tears can wait till later." "And the same goes +for you, Volodya. We promise each other." They had held each other's +hands, had looked into each other's eyes, and had gone to their work, +without delay. It had been cold then, the stars had been shining, the +snow had creaked under their feet as Vasya and Vladimir had gone with +their men. + +At the memory Vasya's heart grew tender; as if the warmth radiating +from her lost happiness were melting it. Vasya had not wept when +the disaster had come upon her; she had not lamented, had forgotten +herself. But now the tears were running down her cheeks. Not bitter, +scalding tears, but gently sorrowful ones. She was weeping for the +happiness of long ago. + +"Vasya--why--Vasya!--what is it?" + +Volodya had raised his head from the pillows, and was looking at her. +His eyes were distant no longer, no longer seemed to look past her. +They weren't cold. They were "his" eyes, Volodya's loving, sympathetic +eyes, although their expression still was sad. + +"What is it, Vasyuk? Why are you crying, poor child?" + +He laid his hand on her curls lovingly. + +"Volodya, my darling. Will you forgive me? Will you forgive?" + +"Silly Vasya. What do you want me to forgive? Now, stop crying, so we +can talk. Sit down here, closer to me. Here we live our lives side by +side, saying nothing and suffering so." + +"But you must not get excited now--I'm afraid for you, dear. Some other +time." + +"No, it wouldn't go so well some other time. Let me talk, Vasya. I'm so +wretched. That's why I wanted to die. And even now, though I want to +live, I see no way out...." + +"We'll look for it together, Volodya. After all, I'm not a stranger to +you." + +"Are you sure you know everything, Vasya?"' + +She nodded. "I know." + +"Now you understand what was hurting me? And you were always +reproaching me with silly things, forever harping on Savelyev." + +"I know, Volodya." + +"And you made another mistake. Did you think that was love? Did you? +No, Vasya, I love only you, you, my guardian angel, you, my faithful +friend. But there, Vasya, it's different, entirely different. Call it +whatever you want, call it lack of self-control, whatever you want, +only not love! But you were jealous of me, you suspected me, spied on +me." + +"Never, Volodya. Never." + +"How can you say that? Think of the blue silk! Think of your +cross-examinations: 'Why do you smell of perfume?' And 'Where does +Savelyev live? Show me!'" + +"I didn't spy on you, Volodya; no, I didn't. But I was imagining +all sorts of dreadful things. I wanted to drive away those fancies, +Volodya. I wanted to believe in you, to keep my faith in you." + +"Oh, don't talk about your fancies! You were jealous all the same. You +didn't say so openly, but you tormented me, tortured me. Why go over +all that? We're both to blame!" + +Silence. Both were thinking. + +"Is our life to go on like this, Volodya?" Vasya asked mournfully. + +"I don't know, Vasya. I'm lost myself. I don't know what to do." + +Again both were silent. Both had much to say; but they could not reach +each other. + +"Might you not really be happier with the other girl, Volodya?" Vasya +asked cautiously. She was surprised that the question did not hurt her. + +"Vasya, Vasya! I see that you don't trust me. Can't you see whom I +love? Didn't I try to kill myself because I had lost you?" There was +reproach in both his voice and his eyes. + +Her heart was trembling with joy. + +"Volodya!" + +They embraced; their lips sought each other. + +"No, not like that, Vasya! Calm down, Vasyuk! My strength hasn't come +back yet, you see--I can't even kiss you...." + +Smiling, Vladimir patted Vasya's head; but his eyes were sad again. No; +the wall between them could not be broken down. They could not find the +path that led through the thorny hedge of misunderstanding from one +heart to the other. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + +Vladimir had returned to his work for the first time, had gone to the +office. Vasya was rejoicing in her freedom. In the morning she rushed +to the Party Committee, and thence to the hemp-binding works. Lisa was +asking for help, preparations had to be made for the meeting of the +union. + +On the way to the Party Committee Vasya smiled. She felt as though +she had escaped from a cage. Everything delighted her. She felt as if +she had not seen her Comrades for an incredibly long time; and they +were glad, too. They had missed her. Vasya was a general favorite. She +did so much, gossiped not at all, and sympathized with everybody's +troubles. The moment she reached Party headquarters she was given work +to do--she had to determine what was to be discussed at the meeting, +and to classify the material with the speakers. + +Vasya looked at the clock. Impossible! It was almost eight! Vladimir +must have waited for her impatiently. Had they given him a dinner +conforming with the doctor's orders? Vasya had forgotten all about it. + +She walked with Lisa, discussing the news that a Comrade of the Central +Administration had brought from Moscow. Many peculiar things were +happening in the Party these days. Lisa was in complete disagreement +with the new policy; she stood with the boys of the factory. They were +going to put up their own candidates at the Party Conference--there +would be another fight against the Chairman. + +Vasya envied her. Since her arrival she had taken no really active +part in anything, as if she were not a member of the Party, but only a +"sympathizer." + +"That's because you're a manager's wife. If you had been living by +yourself you would have come back to work very soon." + +Vasya sighed. Lisa didn't have to tell her that; she knew it herself. +But she had no time to think of such things. As soon as Vladimir should +have completely recovered she would go back to her province. + +"Oh, you won't go! You're much too fond of your Vladimir Ivanovitch. +You're only a wife nowadays," Lisa objected irritably. + +Vasya remained silent. What could she say? Lisa was right; but she did +not complain. She had gone through too much. Let Volodya only live, +live without suffering. + +When Vasya came home he was not there. + +"Where is Vladimir Ivanovitch? Hasn't he come back yet?" + +"Of course he came back. He was here from three o'clock, and waited for +you to come for dinner. But he couldn't wait so long. When you didn't +come he ate with Ivan Ivanovitch. They went away not long ago," Marya +Semyonovna told her. "But there's a note for you on the table." + +Vasya took it up. + +"Dear Vasya, we've agreed always to be frank with each other; and you +said you'd always understand me. I absolutely must be there today. I'll +tell you why later. Then you'll understand that I couldn't help it. I +beg you to stand by our agreement, and not to grieve. Your Volodya." + +When Vasya had read the note her hands dropped on her lap. + +Again? So it was not over. But why had she thought it was over? Had +Volodya ever said so? Hadn't she known that Ivan Ivanovitch was always +going back and forth, forming the connecting link between Vladimir +and the other woman? Volodya was honest, as she had begged him to +be. Frankness, only frankness! Why did it hurt so? Why did bitter +resentment and indignation rise in her heart, as if Volodya had +deceived her again? + +Marya Semyonovna was setting the table and looking disapprovingly at +Vasya. + +"Do you want to eat?" she asked. "Are you starting this business +all over again? Nobody eats, and a person is expected to cook! Then +there'll be more of your endless quarrels and tears. You may resent it +or not, Vassilissa Dementyevna, but I must tell you the truth; you're +not the woman for Vladimir Ivanovitch. Now you're broken-hearted over +his letter, and you're crying because he's gone to his mistress. But I +tell you that you're to blame, too. The man just rose up from the dead, +so to speak. He took poison on account of you. But the moment he walked +out the door you were gone yourself. If it were your work, it would be +different. Business demands its rights. But you just run around from +one meeting to another, enlightening our silly women. Why don't you +clean up your own house before you try to teach others? It's a disgrace +to work for you!" + +Banging the door, she disappeared into the kitchen. But after a few +minutes Marya Semyonovna returned, a little gentler, with a hot omelet +and a cup of cocoa. + +"Eat, Vassilissa Dementyevna, and stop thinking. You can't think of +everything, after all." + +Marya Semyonovna sat down at the table beside Vasya and recounted her +own experiences. Something of the sort had happened in the house of +the late Madame Gollolobova, the general's wife. All on account of the +French governess. But then the general and his wife were reconciled and +lived together very well until she died. What was more, they even were +happy. + +Vasya listened half-heartedly, but did not interrupt. She had come to +know Marya Semyonovna during Vladimir's illness. Marya Semyonovna +pitied Vasya, and recognized one of her own people in her. She hated +the specialists, the doctors, and the managers, thought them all +_burshuis_. But now Vasya had to listen to Marya Semyonovna's endless +stories of how the millionaire Pokatilovs had lived; and what the +general's wife used to like for dinner. They bored Vasya; but she +didn't want to hurt Marya Semyonovna's feelings. She was a kindly old +soul, though she seemed rather sulky at first glance. + +Her stories were particularly disagreeable to Vasya just now. She +wanted to weigh everything, to clear up matters in her own mind, to +think things over from beginning to end. + +"Thanks for the supper, Marya Semyonovna. Now I'll have to go to my +papers." + +"Is that all you ate? If I'd known that I wouldn't have cooked anything +for you. You'll kill yourself, Vassilissa Dementyevna; and the whole +business isn't worth that. For, to tell you the truth, I wouldn't give +a kopek for Vladimir Ivanovitch's sweetheart! She isn't worth your +little finger." + +Lisa had said the same thing. + +"Why do you say that, Marya Semyonovna? She is supposed to be so very +beautiful." + +"What's beautiful in her? She's painted and powdered like a clown. She +isn't interested in anything but clothes, so that she can get more and +more out of the men." + +"Do you know her? Did you ever see her?" + +"Of course I know her. How often didn't she sleep here before you came, +the dressed-up hussy! She has all sorts of notions. She has to have hot +water at night, needs this, that, and the other. She pretends she's +a lady, and says she's been used to this life since she was a child. +But she's lying--she doesn't look like that. Real gentlefolk are more +polite. They always say 'Please' and 'Thank you' to the servants. But +this hussy can only give orders: 'Bring me this! Do that! Clear these +things away!'" + +"What's her name?" + +"Her name? Nina Constantinovna. I can't remember her last name. +Everybody in town calls her just Nina Constantinovna." + +"I'd like to see her sometime," Vasya said thoughtfully, turning +Volodya's note in her hands. + +"Nothing could be simpler. She goes walking in the City Park every day +when the band plays. Let's go there tomorrow, and you can take a look +at the minx. In the old days that kind used to walk the streets of +Moscow at night." + +"When the music plays, you say? All right, Marya Semyonovna; let's go +there. Maybe I'll feel better after I've seen her." + +Marya Semyonovna shook her head doubtfully; but she made no attempt to +dissuade Vasya. She was anxious to see how the two rivals would look at +each other. + + * * * * * + +Vasya went through the dark house. She didn't want any light; she felt +that the darkness soothed her. She could not sleep. + +In the morning everything seemed fine; Volodya was well and working +again, and she, too, was busy. For she would soon return to her +province. She didn't want to be the "manager's lady". Since she and +Vladimir had agreed always to be frank, she felt better. But the pain +was still there. It was not jealousy. Nor had Vladimir broken his word; +he had told the truth to Vasya as to a friend. Still, she did not feel +quite happy. + +She scolded herself: what in the world did she want? Surely she had not +thought that Vladimir had come back to her altogether, that he had torn +the other out of his heart. But that was just it. That was what Vasya +had thought, hoped for, longed for. + +And what was the upshot of it all? They had suffered so much, and had +progressed not an inch. Vladimir was again spending his evenings with +the other woman while Vasya wandered alone through the dark house. +He had no pity for her. Whom did he love? Her, Vasya, his friend and +comrade, or the other? He said he loved Vasya; but it wasn't true. +These thoughts only increased her suffering. If she knew that he had +stopped loving her she would go away. But as matters stood, how could +she go? Suppose she was mistaken. Suppose he should attempt suicide +again. Vasya could not leave Vladimir. How could she live far away +from him with this agony in her heart? It was more bearable when he was +there. + +Come what might, she loved Vladimir. If she didn't love him could she +suffer such torment because of him? + +She loved him: but she understood him less every day. As if they had +entered a forest by two divergent paths. The farther they penetrated +into the forest the greater the distance between them. She loved +Volodya; but in her heart she condemned him more and more. Why had he +had anything to do with such a creature? If it had been one of her +own people, a Communist girl, she would not have felt so hurt. But +this was a real _burshuika_. Volodya himself had told Vasya that she +was a stranger, a young lady of the aristocracy. Spoiled. She could +not understand the Bolsheviki and the Communists, but longed for her +old life. She had been brought up in luxury. There had been seventeen +servants in her home. She had had a horse of her own, accustomed to +the side-saddle. Her father had been a White soldier. Her mother had +died during the Revolution. Her brother, an officer, had been reported +missing. Only she was left. She had looked for work. As she knew +many languages she was taken on in the administrative offices as a +secretary. Volodya met her there; she fell in love with him, wrote him +letters. + +Vasya was far away, Volodya was always alone. So their affair began. +It was soon noticed in the office; Nina Constantinovna was frowned +upon, and had to give up her position. Savelyev made her his secretary. + +"Only his secretary?" Vasya couldn't hold back the question. For one +thing, she wanted to irritate Vladimir; besides, she wanted to learn +the truth about the other. + +"What sort of gossip are your repeating there?" Vladimir flared up. +"Aren't you ashamed to say such vile things? I didn't think you would +sling mud at her, like any other woman. Why, Vasya? It doesn't become +you!" + +He told Vasya that Savelyev was a sort of father, or guardian, to Nina +Constantinovna. He had known her parents; and when Nina stood alone in +the world he took care of her, gave her advice and material assistance, +procured the position in the administrative office for her. Then, +when she left, he helped her again. She had to vacate her room. Where +could she go? To Vladimir? That couldn't be done. Savelyev offered to +take her into his house. But Nina Constantinovna didn't want that. Was +she to be left on the street? Savelyev found a small house where he +arranged to have his office, and offered Nina a home there. "For he is +something like a guardian of hers. He feels sorry for her, takes care +of her...." + +"And makes love to her!" Again Vasya could not control herself. She +was angry; Volodya spoke too favorably of her. He always had been a +trusting soul. Vasya, however, was suspicious of the girl. Everybody +said she was a regular one.... + +"It's a lie, a slanderous lie! Why do you find pleasure in repeating +such filth? If you want to know the truth, ask me. Nina thinks of no +one. Nina loves only me. And even if it were true, Savelyev would not +be the only one to make love to her. Do you know Maklezov, of the +Foreign Trade Office? He offered her a life of luxury, but Nina showed +him the door. I won't deny that Savelyev may like Nina. Maybe his love +for her isn't purely paternal. But Nina can't stand him--as a man, that +is. There's nothing doing there. It's not to be thought of. I know +Nina, you can be sure of that." + +She saw that he was growing quite excited, as if he wanted to convince +not Vasya, but himself. But what hurt her most was Savelyev's +connection with everything. She had disliked him from the first day. +There had been a reason for the S. C. telling her that Vladimir +Ivanovitch ought to keep away from him. + +"But I don't see why Savelyev has to be mixed up with it. That's why +they say that you keep her together, share and share alike." + +"If anyone dares say that to you, spit in his face! You must understand +me, Vasya. That's the terrible part of it, that Nina was a virgin when +I took her. She was pure...." + +"Pure?" + +Vasya felt a stab in her heart, as if a fine needle were piercing it. +Long ago, in '17, at that evening tea in Vasya's room, he had said: + +"I'm keeping my heart for a pure girl." And then, that first night, he +had caressed her and said: "No one in the world can be purer than you." + +"Pure? What nonsense are you talking there, Vladimir? What has the body +to do with purity? You're beginning to think like a _burshui_!" + +"Try to understand me, Vasya. I don't think so, but she does. It's a +great tragedy for her that I took her without marrying her. Now, she +thinks, she's 'lost.' You can't know what she suffers. She cries all +the time. Try to understand, Vasya. She thinks differently than we +proletarians do. The first man who has her has to marry her, too." + +"Why didn't you tell me that before? Who's preventing you from marrying +her? I?" + +"Oh, Vasya, Vasya. You're so clever--but when it comes to love +you're a woman, like all the rest. How can I marry her, Vasya? We're +strangers--we're different in every respect. It's not love. It's rather +pity. You can see it yourself." + +Only pity? Really? She wanted to believe it was only pity. + +"If you don't love or understand each other, why don't you separate? +It's tormenting both of you!" Vasya didn't mention herself. + +"How can I leave her? It's not such a simple matter, Vasya. Where can +she go if I leave her? On the street? Should Savelyev keep her? Or +should she register as a prostitute?" + +"Why all this fuss? Let her look for work!" + +"Work! That's more easily said than done nowadays, when everybody's +laying off. Besides, what sort of work? After all, Nina can't go into a +factory!" + +Vasya wanted to say: Why not into a factory? Why not, that hussy? But +she wanted to spare Vladimir. He was not yet well, and the doctor had +ordered him to avoid all excitement. He was already visibly affected by +their conversation. + +Later, as she roamed through the dark house, Vasya was sorry. Why +hadn't she cried out the truth? Why hadn't she told Vladimir everything +she thought of the woman? She didn't believe that Nina Constantinovna +loved him. She was merely ensnaring him, to gain a double advantage. +Vasya hated her, not because she was reputed to be of loose character, +but because her heart was not pure. Plenty of prostitutes were better +than the so-called decent women. Vasya remembered the curly-haired +Sinka, who had been shot by the Whites, and who cried, as she died: +"Long live the Soviet Government! Long live the Revolution!" She had +been on the streets, the lowest of the low; but when the Revolution +broke out she revealed herself, undertook the most difficult and most +dangerous tasks. She had worked in the Cheka with all her heart and +soul. Vasya could have understood Vladimir's falling in love with a +woman like that. But this "lady," this _burshuika_! She was a stranger, +after all. And she had no heart, she was simply fooling Vladimir. He, +trusting soul, believed in her. That was what hurt so badly. Vasya +would never be able to reconcile herself to that. + +What was her hold on him? His pity for her? I'm so weak, so helpless! +He said she had been pure! Pure! But now there remained not the tiniest +trace of that purity. She had exchanged it long ago for presents from +men. He, however, still believed in her. Vasya was furious at the other +woman. + +"How long are you going to run around the house this way, Vassilissa +Dementyevna?" grumbled Marya Semyonovna, breaking Vasya's train of +thought. "You ought to take care of yourself; you need your strength +for your meetings. Why don't you try to sleep? There's no sense in your +staying up for your husband. You won't want to have him in your room +anyway, when he comes from the other one. I'll make his bed in the +drawing room." + +Vasya threw her arms about Marya Semyonovna. But she felt even more +sad. A stranger was sorry for her. But he, her lover, her husband, her +friend, pitied only the other, the heartless, wily woman who wound +herself about him like a serpent. + + * * * * * + +"Are you asleep, Vasyuk?" Coming into the bedroom, Vladimir lit the +lamp. Vasya lay in bed, her eyes wide open. How could she sleep with +this agony in her heart? + +"No, I'm not asleep." + +"Is Vasyuk angry with me?" + +He sat down on the bed and tried to kiss Vasya. She pushed him away +vehemently. + +"So you are angry with me. What about our agreement? I told you the +truth as I would a friend. You asked me to, yourself. And now...? Is it +better to lie?" + +Vasya did not answer. + +"It's not good for us, darling, to begin our squabbles and reproaches +all over again. Why are you angry? Because I visited Nina? Just think +it over, Vasya. I was together with you all the time; and she is alone. +Do you think she didn't worry and suffer enough when I was ill?" + +Vasya wanted to scream: "What has that to do with me?" But she pressed +her lips together. She said nothing; only her heart was beating +furiously. + +"You must not think that anything happened, Vasyuk. I wasn't alone +with her. Savelyev was there, too, and Ivan Ivanovitch came in. We had +something to discuss. Would you like to know why I was there today? +Well, Vasya--I went there to say good-bye. Why do you stare so? Don't +you believe me? Ask Ivan Ivanovitch. That's why I had him come here, +so that he would arrange everything. Help Nina Constantinova to get +away from here, pay her rent, and all the rest of it." + +"Where is she going?" Vasya's voice sounded hollow. + +"To Moscow. Savelyev will take her there; he has relatives there, with +whom Nina will live. And she will look for a position. It'll be easier +for all of us that way." + +Vasya remained silent. There was suspicion in her eyes. + +Why the sudden change? What had happened? Didn't he love her any more? + +"Let's not talk about love. That's quite another question. But Nina, +too, understands that things can't go on this way. She's fully made up +her mind to go to Moscow; she decided that long ago. She told me she +would go the morning you went away from me. She telephoned me, and said +she would not go on with this life. Either the one thing or the other. +Or she would go to Moscow...." + +"Ah, so that's it. That's why you took poison! One woman had gone, +and the other was threatening to leave if you didn't marry her. Now I +see it all. You were afraid you'd lose her! What a fool I am. What a +silly fool. I thought it was because of me that you were despondent and +wanted to die." Vasya laughed bitterly, hysterically. + +"How you twist everything, Vasya. How spiteful you've become. You're +not the Vasyuk you used to be," Vladimir said sadly, getting up from +the bed. "There's really no sense in our talking. I wanted to tell you +everything, so there would be no secrets between us. But now I see +that the more truthful I am the worse matters become. You've become +different, cruel." + +"Oh, no! Stop, Volodya!" Vasya's voice was like breaking glass, +quivered with all the despair of her heart. "If we're going to talk +things over, let's do it. Why do you send her to Moscow? You love her, +not me. If you loved me you would have stayed with me today. But you +consider only her, you pity only her." + +"Vasya, Vasya. How unjust you are. If you only knew what Nina has gone +through in these months. She is so young--almost a child. She hasn't +a single close friend. Everybody slings mud at her. And why, Vasya? +Because she had the misfortune of falling in love with me. You, Vasya, +have your Party, your friends. But she has only me. I'm her only +protector, her only supporter." + +Walking up and down the room, his hand on his back, Vladimir told Vasya +that Nina had expected a child. His child--his dream! So much joy, and +so much sorrow. + +"Where is the child?" Vasya asked, trembling. + +"You surely don't think Nina could have kept it! The scandal! And how +you would have suffered! We thought of you. Nina cried her heart out. +But for your sake, Vasya, we decided to do even that." + +For her sake? He had discussed it with a strange woman, had "thought of +her" with a strange woman, of her, Vasya, as if she were not his friend +and comrade, but some enemy. He had not come to her with his troubles, +but to the other, to Nina. So she was nearer to him--she, not Vasya, +belonged with him now. + +"The day you came I found out that Nina was pregnant. Now you know what +was tormenting me, Vasya." + +She nodded silently. + +Vladimir went on, telling her that Nina had gone to another city, to +prevent gossip. Savelyev had found a place for her to live there. And +she had had her abortion there. But the operation had not gone off +smoothly. There had been complications. Vladimir had gone to see her. + +"Was that when the shipping clerks were going to strike?" + +"Yes, about that time." + +Hm.... So that was why he had wept in the dining room that day. On +account of Nina. Not because of the shipping clerks, of course. + +"And she came back the morning Savelyev arrived, didn't she?" Vasya +went on. + +"Yes." + +"I understand." + +Neither spoke; both waited. Now the hard, cruel words would come again. +Later they would regret them; but they could not be taken back. They +distorted love, mutilating it until it was like a pock-marked face. No +more beauty, no more heart-warming happiness. + +"Vasya!" Vladimir broke the oppressive silence. "Why all this +heartache? Who's to blame? I swear to you, I spared you, spared you as +long as I could." + +"That wasn't necessary, Volodya. I only wanted you to believe that I'm +your friend." + +Sitting down again beside her, Vladimir took her hand. + +"Yes, Vasya, I know you're my friend. That's why it's so hard for me." +He laid his head on Vasya's shoulder, as he had always used to do. +Stroking that head, Vasya felt a sweet joy tempering her pain. In spite +of everything he was there, with her! He still loved her, in his way. + +"Mightn't it be better, Volodya, if I go away, and she stays?" she +asked cautiously. + +"Don't start with that again, Vasya. Don't torture me. Instead of +helping me you drive me off the right path. I've revealed my soul to +you as to a friend. I'm keeping no secrets from you. And here you say +you want to go away." + +"For your sake, Volodya; if you love her." + +"What do you mean by love, Vasya? Love must be returned; and I feel it +so clearly, that Nina and I have nothing in common, that she isn't +a comrade, that she can never be a friend like you to me. I'm sorry +for her, I take care of her. What would become of her if I were to +leave her, if we were to part? I feel responsible for her. Can't you +understand? After all, she was a virgin when I took her." + +"That's nonsense, Volodya. Why are you responsible for her? She wasn't +a child; she must have known what she was doing. Besides, who bothers +about such things nowadays?" + +"You have proletarian ideas; but Nina is different. It's a real tragedy +for her." + +"I know. That's why I say I'll go away, and you should marry her." + +"There you go again, Vasya! Didn't I beg you not to torment me? Besides +it's too late. Everything's been decided. Nina Constantinovna goes to +Moscow Thursday. That's all there's to it! Let's stop talking about it." + +Vladimir spoke so calmly, with so much assurance, that she had to +believe him. + +"But you be patient, Vasya, for another few days. Don't do anything +rash. She'll go away, and we'll live as before. No, it'll be better +than ever before. Now we have suffered together, and that'll bring us +closer to each other." + +Volodya put his arms around Vasya, and kissed her eyes. + +"I'd like to sleep with you tonight, Vasyuk. Do you mind? I'm so tired, +my head's reeling." + +Lying down, he laid his head on Vasya's shoulder, and fell asleep at +once. + +Vasya, however, did not sleep. If he loved her, he would have caressed +her. If he loved her, he would have understood her grief. She gazed +at him. That familiar head, hiding such strange, incomprehensible +thoughts. Those long lashes, veiling tender glances not meant for her. +Those warm lips, covering another woman with yearning kisses, arousing +her passion. + +She pushed Voldya's head from her shoulder. He was a stranger to her! + +"Why do you drive your precious Volya away?" Vladimir whispered in his +sleep. + +"Your precious Volya?" Whose pet name was that? Not Vasya's. He had +confused them. He thought of the other even in his sleep. + +Vasya scowled at her sleeping husband. Was that her lover? Had he once +been her friend and comrade? Was he the man whom she had loved when, +together, they had fought for the Soviet? + +He was a stranger. A stranger. + +She shivered. She was so lonely. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + +The Park. Dusty, withered by the oppressive heat of the summer. The +long and anxiously awaited rain did not come; it would have washed the +dust of the city from the trees, would have quenched the thirst of the +grass. + +The band was playing before a small audience. Children were running +about; a few Red Guards were there, sitting in groups, or walking along +with their sweethearts. On a shady bench sat a priest in a monk's gown, +leaning on his staff, lost in thought. Beside him was a nursemaid, +watching a little child. + +Vasya and Marya Semyonovna sat down on the bench; although they were a +trifle to one side they could see everything. + +They waited for Nina Constantinovna. + +"Why hasn't our little lady come yet? Generally she's here the moment +the music begins, to show off her clothes. All the fine ladies +come here to see what's stylish this year. They find out from Nina +Constantinovna, because she's always dressed up to the minute." + +Vasya listened absent-mindedly. She was eager to see Nina. How would +she be? At the same time she was afraid. How could she bear to look at +her? + +"Is that she, Marya Semyonovna? On that bench there, to the right of +the band? The one in the pink dress?" + +"How in the world could you think that? Nina Constantinova isn't like +that. You'll see the difference between her and the others right away. +She's a real fashionable lady." + +They sat there, waiting. But Nina did not come. Only when they were +about to go home, intending to return the next day, did she appear. She +was coming from the other end of the park, and stopped before the band. +She was talking to Savelyev and two members of the Red Committee, and +seemed unconscious of the eyes that stared at her. + +So this was how she looked! She was wearing a thin white dress that +enveloped her body in soft folds, and revealed the curve of her +breasts. She had on long sand-colored gloves and a hat to match, pulled +down over her eyes. Vasya could not distinguish the features, but saw +only the lips, shining red as blood. + +"What red, red lips!" + +"That's the rouge," explained Marya Semyonovna. "You should see her +eyes. They look as if she'd smeared soot over them. Somebody ought to +take a sponge and wash the dirt off her face. And then you ought to +look at her! I could be beautiful too, if I used powder and rouge." + +Nina Constantinovna was leaning on her white parasol, tapping the +ground with the point of her white shoes. She laughed, throwing back +her head a little. The members of the Red Committee laughed too. + +Apparently bored, Savelyev had stepped to one side, and was tracing +figures in the sand with his cane. + +"Her hat hides her whole face," Vasya complained. + +"Come, let's walk past her. Then you can get a better look at the +hussy. But I advise you not to look her way. She isn't pretty. When I +was working for Madame Gollolobova, that's when I saw real fine ladies +and real beauties. Compared to them, she's nothing!" + +But Vasya's curiosity bothered her. She had to know why Volodya loved +the other girl. + +Just as Vasya and Marya Semyonovna were getting up to walk past Nina, +she said good-bye to the members of the Red Committee, exclaiming +loudly enough for Vasya to hear: "We'll meet again in Moscow." Turning +she went on toward the gate, Savelyev following. + +"You surely don't want to run after her? You mustn't do that, +Vassilissa Dementyevna. You'll have to let her go, that bird. People +know you--and that's no way of stopping gossip." + +Though she slackened her pace, Vasya kept her eyes fixed on the other. + +She was tall, slender; her shoulders swayed a little as she walked. Her +head was bowed as she went away from the bandstand. Vasya thought Nina +was crying. Savelyev bent toward her, seemed to be trying to persuade +her. But Nina shook her head. No, she said, raising her tan-gloved hand +to her face, as if to wipe away a tear. Could she weep? Had she come +to bid the music farewell? Or--or did she love Volodya? Was she not +merely trying to get something from him? Vasya was disturbed. She felt +no better now that she had seen Nina Constantinovna. It was no longer +jealousy that bothered her, but another, new feeling. Something like +pity for Nina. Why had she cried? Why had she come to hear the music? +To bid her happiness good-bye? + +A new load on Vasya's heart. She was furious at herself. That was all +that was needed! To suffer with the other woman, with the one who had +got in her way. A fine state of affairs. + + * * * * * + +Nina had gone to Moscow. Almost two weeks had passed since she and +Savelyev had left the city. Logically, Vasya should have enjoyed life +now. The interloper was gone. Vladimir had stayed behind with Vasya; so +she surely was dearer, more precious to him, and the other affair was +merely temporary? + +Vasya smiled. Vasya laughed. She coughed less and visited the Party +Committee regularly. Vladimir was working, too; he was reorganizing +the business according to the plans of the syndicate people. When that +would be finished he and Vasya would go to Moscow, whence he was to be +transferred to his new district. Vladimir was happy, entirely taken up +with his work. + +But the real, heart-felt joy of other days was lacking. There was +nothing to be done about it. Vladimir was not exactly cool; but he had +changed. Frequently he would be moody, would lose his temper. + +Why did Vasya come home so late from the Party Committee? It was +annoying for their guests, for they would not have dinner without the +hostess. Again, he would flare up about the collars: not a single one +was clean. Then Vasya, too, would be cross. She wasn't responsible for +that; let him take care of it himself. Let him go to Marya Semyonovna. +Vasya was no laundress. Both would be furious when they parted--and +why? On account of a stupid collar! One day Vasya came home in the +rain. To save her hat, she had left it at Party Headquarters, and had +put a shawl on her head. When he saw her Vladimir frowned, and snarled: +"How you dress! Your shoes are run down at the heels, your skirt is +filthy, you come in with a shawl on your head like a peasant woman. +Slovenly!" + +Again she lost control of herself. + +"We can't all strut around like fashion plates. But I don't have to +accept any favors from Savelyev." + +Vladimir looked daggers at her; he said nothing. Vasya thought he would +strike her. + +But he restrained himself. + +Something was wrong here. Vasya and Vladimir wanted to be friends; +but the slightest provocation filled them with hatred for each other. +Vladimir was always dreaming of his new position. How he could furnish +the house, how he could arrange everything. + +This was boring for Vasya. Why furnish a house? What was the pleasure +in that? It would be different if it had anything to do with the +common good. Vladimir disagreed with her, reproached her with +narrow-mindedness. + +Vasya told of a dispute in the Marxists' Club on whether history was +determined by economic questions alone or by ideas also. She grew +animated, wanted Vladimir to hear everything that had been said. But +he was bored. All this was empty talk. Increasing the profits of his +enterprise--there was something worth doing! And they quarreled again. + +When the two of them were alone together they had nothing to talk +about. What could they do? They telephoned Ivan Ivanovitch. His +presence made them feel more at ease. + +Vasya was expecting letters from her province. But none came. Neither +Grusha nor Stepan Alexeyevitch wrote a line. What could be the matter? + +Although Vasya did not want to admit it even to herself, she suspected, +deep down in her heart, that she would be called back to her province +to work. Should she go? Should she stay? + + * * * * * + +A registered letter from home. From Stepan Alexeyevitch. Short, and to +the point. He proposed that Vasya take over the group of the textile +factories, and organize the work there in a new way, as the Central +Administration would prescribe. Vasya would live there, not in the +city. He asked for an answer. + +Vasya's heart pounded. She longed for her own people. For what was her +life here? No work, no joy, only one worry: if only nothing happens! +She seemed to be bound hand and foot. She remembered a jackdaw her +brother Kolyka had owned. He had caught it in the woods, and had bound +its wings so that it couldn't fly away. The bird hopped about on the +floor, opened its beak, and turned its bright black eyes toward the +window. It tried to flap its wings, but they were bound fast. It tried +again, a third time, cawed with distress and--resumed its solemn +walk on the floor as if it had never attempted to fly. This was what +was happening to Vasya now. Her wings were bound, too, and it was +impossible for her to fly. But what was binding her wings? Joy, or +love? No; neither of these. She was fettered by apprehension, by the +fear that again something might happen to Vladimir. By her gratitude +to him for staying with her, for sending away the 'hussy.' Slender +threads. But they were bound tightly about Vasya. She seemed hopelessly +entangled in the net. + +Lisa said: "I don't understand you, Vassilissa. I tell you, you're +becoming a real 'manager's lady.' You can't get away from it." + +How could she break these threads, tear the net? + +Vasya held Stepan Alexeyevitch's letter in her hand. She felt loath to +put it away. It seemed to be a talisman that would help her find her +way, as in the fairy-tale. + +"Vassilissa Dementyevna, the beer is all gone. You'll have to tell +Vladimir Ivanovitch to have some more sent out from the factory. +Otherwise we'll get unexpected guests for dinner and we won't know +where to get it from. You can't make it out of the air." + +Marya Semyonovna looked disapprovingly at Vasya. + +"You're always glum, Vassilissa Dementyevna. And why, if I might ask? +That dressed-up minx has finally landed in Moscow, thank God, and +Vladimir Ivanovitch is with you now, never goes out anywhere. Why do +you sulk so? The men don't like that. They want their wives to be +jolly, want to hear them laugh, want to have some pleasure at home +after the day's work and worries." + +As she listened, Vasya smiled and thought: Perhaps she's right. Perhaps +I ought to rouse myself and again become the tomboy Vasya of '18. +There was a lot of work in those days, but a lot of laughter, too. + +Should she go to see Volodya in the office? An unexpected visitor? Tell +him about the letter--and, laughingly, say that she would refuse, that +she could not leave her Volodya! He would see how she loved him. He +would be glad, would put his arms around her joyfully, would kiss her +brown eyes. He would call her Vasya, his tomboy. + +She chose a white blouse and put on a blue tie. She stood before the +mirror as she put on her hat and arranged her curls. She wanted to +please Volodya today. For she was bringing him a gift--a priceless +gift! Her refusal of Stepan Alexeyevitch's offer! She would go with +Vladimir to his new position, and would undertake some work there. + +When she reached the administration building Vasya went to the +manager's office. It was empty. The manager was at a conference. But it +would soon be over; he would probably be back in about ten minutes. + +Vasya waited, looked through the Moscow papers. She had to smile at +herself. Now she would make up to Volodya for everything--for his +parting from the other, for his greater devotion to herself. + +Someone brought in the mail, laid it on the manager's desk. Might there +not be some letters for Vasya? She looked over the business envelopes. +There--suddenly her heart throbbed wildly, then seemed to miss a beat. +A narrow, tinted envelope--a delicate handwriting, as though engraved. +That could only be the other woman: Nina Constantinovna. + +Everything was not over? Everything was as before? Lies? Vasya felt as +though she were flying, soaring--long, long, endlessly. + +She must have lost her balance, for she knocked down the ashtray that +stood on the desk. + +As she looked at the narrow, tinted envelope, Vasya felt that it +contained her destiny. There! It disappeared in her pocket. Now she +would learn the truth. Now there would be an end to the lies. + +Vladimir entered together with a member of the administration. + +"You're here, Vasya? Did you want something, or are you just visiting +me?" + +"There's no more beer. You'll have to order more from the factory." + +"Will you look at that! You're becoming a housewife! I can't recognize +my tomboy, Vasya," laughed Vladimir, quite happily. + +Laugh. Just you laugh. But I'll tear through the net in which you have +caught me. I'll go to the root of this deception. + +"What's the trouble, Vasya? Can't you stay longer? Must you go?" + +She nodded silently. She was trembling with a fury that might break +loose any moment. + +She could not wait until she got home to read the letter. Going to the +City Park, she sat down on a bench and impatiently tore open the tinted +envelope. + + "My precious Volya! My king, my beloved tormenter! Again, not a + word from you. The third day without a line. Can you have forgotten + me--don't you love your capricious Nina any more? Your little + Egyptian monkey? I don't believe it! I don't believe it! But + it's terrible, nevertheless. You're with her, and I'm all alone! + Your 'mentor' will be able to change you, she'll convince you + that our love is a 'sin against Communism', that you must fast + Communistically, give up everything that might delight you, and + live only for the fanatics. I'm afraid of her. I know the power she + has over you. But, my God! I'm not taking anything from her. I want + so little. After all, she's recognized as your wife. You're with + her always, all the time. And I'm begging only for a few hours for + our love. I only beg you to pity me--I have only you, no one else + in all this world! + + "I wake up at night, trembling: he doesn't love me any more; he's + going to leave me. What will become of me then? I'm afraid to think + of it. You know that Nikanor Platonovitch is lying in wait for me + like a spider. Of course he still plays that fatherly rôle--but we + know what he's hoping for. He's waiting anxiously for the day when + you'll leave me, when I'll be alone, with no one to protect or help + me. That'll be a holiday for him. There are times when I hate him, + when I'd rather go on the street than be obliged to him in any + way. Volya! Volya! My beloved, my madly adored lover! Will there + never be an end to this? Will you never rescue your Ninyka? Have + you no pity for her? Don't you want to protect her? + + "I'm crying, Volya. You have no pity for your little monkey. You + never think of her, you cruel, faithless man. You're caressing + another woman. You love her. I know you love her! And that hurts. + Very, very badly. + + "I want you, your ardent, insatiable love! Don't you long for + my lips? For my embraces? My satiny arms want to enfold you--my + breasts yearn for your caresses.... + + "I can't bear it, Volya! I can't be away from you any longer. Why + did you send me to Moscow? Why? + + "But this will have to be our last separation. In your new district + you'll have to find a little house for me outside the town. + Nobody'll know that I live there. 'The mysterious little house', + where you will go at twilight. And there I'll teach you that a love + like ours is better and more important than anything else in the + world. When are you coming to Moscow? Is she really coming here + with you? If only we could have a week together, to make up for + this! A week for us only. + + "Nikanor Platonovitch says that in the new district you'll have + a splendid house for yourself. With a Gothic dining room. But + there's no dining room lamp. I've seen a marvelous chandelier + here--a bit expensive, but really artistic. I know you'll like it. + + "Now I've told you enough. Such a long letter. You won't be able + to hide it. Here I'm joking; but I really want to cry. Can't you + feel how I suffer? Why, oh why, doesn't life let us have a little + happiness? But don't be alarmed. I won't complain any more. After + all I've gone through I've gained a little sense. You do whatever + you think is right, and I'll be satisfied with everything. Let me + have only one thing--your passionate tenderness, your loving pity + for your poor, miserable, capricious Nina. + + "Moscow, Ostoshenka 18, Number 7, and not 17 as you wrote last + time; the letter almost got lost on account of that. + + "I'm yours, from my feet to my lips--only your darling sweetheart. + + "Nina." + +And, in the margin: "Imagine how delighted I was to find Coty's +l'Origan powder in Moscow." + +Vasya read Nina's letter slowly, carefully, word for word. Not only +with her eyes, but with her heart. + +When she had finished she dropped the letter on her knees, looked at +the dry, dusty grass, listened to the angry humming of a bee; it flew +about busily among the blades, rose into the air, disappointed, and +descended into the grass again. In the spring, when the lilac was +blooming, there had been bees, too. But those had been different, +happy bees; this one was angry, as if the summer had played it false. + +Vasya thought she was thinking of the bee, and not of the letter. Her +heart was numb, seemed not to ache, seemed indifferent to everything. +"Satiny arms," "passionate tenderness!" It hurt her so! Slowly, +painstakingly, Vasya folded the letter, put it back into the envelope. + +Getting up, she walked toward the gate, past the bandstand. The park +was silent and empty today. No music. Now Vasya knew whom Vladimir +loved, knew that not she, but the other, belonged to him. + +Vasya stepped through the gate of the dusty City Park into the noisy +street. She felt as if she had left a grave behind her in the park. She +was going home from a funeral. The burial of her dead happiness. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + +Vladimir had come home earlier than usual. He was smiling with delight, +for he had good news: the long-expected summons of the Central +Administration, his appointment to the new post, had reached him. He +would have to go to Moscow at once. + +"To Moscow? All right, go ahead. I'm going away too, but not to Moscow. +I'm going home, to my province." + +On the surface Vasya was calm as she spoke. The narrow, tinted envelope +was in her pocket--the letter from Nina. + +Vladimir didn't notice the weariness in Vasya's face. He didn't see the +angry light that flashed in her brown eyes. Nor did he wonder why Vasya +was putting her things in order, why she was packing. + +"You want to visit your friends? All right. Will we meet in Moscow, or +will you go directly to the new district?" + +Vasya's heart had had one last hope: he would object, wouldn't let her +go. Now that, too, was over. + +"I'm not going to the new place with you. I've been called back +to work. And I'm going to stay there. Not for a little while, +but forever. I've had enough of my rest in this prison. I'm tired +of playing the manager's lady. You can take a wife who is able to +appreciate this sort of life." + +Something seemed to have given way in Vasya. A torrent of words poured +from her mouth. She spoke so quickly she had to interrupt herself. She +wouldn't let herself be deceived any more. She was glad their love had +come to an end. It had been an ordeal for her, to be without work among +these syndicate people, these _burshuis_! She had stood it only for +Vladimir's sake; and she was hurt because he no longer needed her. He +was using her only as a housekeeper, and as a cloak: "Why, my wife is a +Communist." But it was the other woman who would give him pleasure and +love "in the mysterious little house". A shrewd plan! There was only +one thing Vladimir and Nina had forgotten: whether she, Vasya, would +agree to lead this disgusting life! + +Her eyes were green, spiteful. She had to pause for lack of breath. + +Vladimir shook his head in amazement. "Is that you, Vasya? I don't +recognize you! If I ever kept anything from you it was only for your +sake." + +"Thanks! I don't need your pity. I'm strong. Do you think that your +love fills my life completely? I'm sick of your love. It's only a thorn +in my flesh. I want only to get away from you as quickly as possible, +to tear myself away. I'm not at all interested in what you do. Love, +kiss whomever you please. Lie, deceive! Forget who you are! Betray +Communism--it doesn't make any difference!" + +"Vasya! Vasya! What of our friendship? What of your promise to +understand everything?" + +"Our friendship? Where is it? Where's that friendship? I don't believe +you any more, Vladimir. You've killed my faith in you. If you had come +to me and said: 'Vasya, something terrible, something dreadful has +happened; I love another'--do you think I would have held you back, +or reproached you? Do you think I would have stood in the way of your +happiness? You see, Vladimir, you forget that I'm not merely your wife, +but your friend and comrade too. And that's what hurt me--that's what +I'll never forgive." + +The tears flowed over her thin cheeks. Wiping them away with her +sleeve, she turned her back on Vladimir. + +"I believed in you as in a comrade. But you crushed my faith, +pitilessly. And how can we live together when our faith in each other +is gone? Now I see clearly that our life together, our happiness is +over." + +Vasya's heart was heavy; her thin shoulders shook. She sat down on the +bed, crushing the silk quilt in her hands. Sitting down beside her, +Vladimir put his arm round her. + +"Did you say that we've become strangers to each other, that you don't +love me any more? No, Vasya. If you didn't love me, you wouldn't suffer +so. And I? Have I stopped loving you? Please try to understand! Yes, I +love Nina; but in a different way. My love for you is stronger, deeper. +I can't see any course without you, Vasya. Whatever I do, I always +wonder: What would Vasya say? What would she advise? You've been my +guiding star, and I need you." + +"You're always talking about yourself," Vasya complained. "You forget +me. I can't live that way. I'm not worrying so much about your getting +involved in this affair. What hurts me is that we're not comrades any +more." + +"Do you think I don't see that? But why? I don't know. When we're +parted, we long for each other--when we're together we feel cramped. +You said it used to be different. But were we ever together before? We +never had any family life. We were always working, saw each other only +for a moment. Shall we live that way again, Vasya? Just for the moment! +Would you like that? Each to live for himself; and when we want each +other, we'll meet. Yes? Will you? Then Vasya will be my dear tomboy +again, the only one in the world. And there will be no more lies. We +mustn't break off everything forever, in the heat of the moment. That's +what hurts. Have pity on me!" + +Vladimir buried his head in her lap, as he had always done, and hid his +face in her burning hands. + +The room was quiet. + +A wave of the longing they thought they had forgotten covered both of +them with its hot flood. The little ember of passion, buried under the +ashes of suspicion and offended feelings, glowed more brightly again. + +"Vasya--darling!" + +Vladimir's arms embraced Vasya and pulled her on his knee. He covered +her lips with kisses, and her body with passionate caresses. + +Unresisting, Vasya yielded to the sweet languor she had almost +forgotten. + +Let it be so! Now Vladimir loved her as before. Altogether. He belonged +to her alone, forgot Nina. He was unfaithful to Nina--not only with his +body but with his heart and his soul. + +Vasya felt a malicious joy out of keeping with her usual character. It +grieved her, but she was glad at the same time. Let him be unfaithful. + + * * * * * + +The days that followed were curiously sultry. The ember of passion, +glowing under the ashes of anger and estrangement, flared up like a +charcoal pile fanned into flames by the autumn wind. + +Vladimir had become gentle, Vasya was loving and yielding. They seemed +to have fallen in love all over again. They could not live without +each other. At night they lay clasped in each other's arms, as though +afraid that they might lose each other. Vladimir kissed Vasya's brown +eyes, Vasya pressed Vladimir's head to her heart. They had never loved, +never possessed each other like this, with bittersweet longing and joy. +Had they found love anew, or were they bidding it farewell? Farewell to +their lost, irretrievable happiness? + +The while she smiled and joked Vasya was afraid of bursting into tears +at any moment. Vladimir caressed her, and looked into her brown eyes; +but she read infinite sadness in his gaze. Not the mischievous sparkle +of joy. His eyes did not mirror Vasya's love. They seemed silently to +be saying good-bye to her. + +To keep from seeing Volodya's eyes and their tears, to smother that +infinite sadness, Vasya put her slender arms around Volodya's neck. +She sought his lips; he pressed her to his heart. She yielded to his +passionate caresses. He sought her body, insatiably, until both fell +asleep, exhausted. + +Those were queer days. Hot, sultry, gloomy. They held no happiness, no +carefree joy born of love. + +They discussed everything. "In the meanwhile," Vasya would go home to +her work. When Vladimir would be settled in his new place they would +arrange, by letter, when they would meet. Where? They said nothing. +Not a word was spoken of the separation. Everything seemed so simple +now, so clear and comprehensible, as if there were unadulterated +truthfulness between them. But there was one thing Vasya never +mentioned; that she had taken and hidden Nina's letter, that she was +keeping it because it might some day be useful to her. She insisted +herself that he should telegraph to Moscow that he was coming alone. +Why did she want this? It hurt her, but somehow it seemed necessary. At +first Vladimir refused, and regarded Vasya suspiciously, as if he were +afraid of something. But finally he telegraphed nonetheless--and became +even more loving and ardent. + +It had to be so. They were drinking the last drops of happiness that +remained in the cup of life; and they contained the heady wine of +passion, the bitter sweetness of parting. + +Vasya was gay, animated, lively. Volodya had not seen her so for a long +time. + +"I didn't like my skin, so I shed it. What sort of 'manager's lady' am +I? You need another sort of wife. Beside, I'm not the least bit suited +for the Nep!" Laughing, she teased Volodya. + +"I don't know what you are! I only know that you've become Vasya, the +tomboy, again. And I won't give up my tomboy, not even if five Party +Committees demand you. For a while, yes; but for good--never!" + +Vasya laughed. That was how it had to be. They would meet occasionally, +as free comrades. But not as man and wife. That would be better. + +Vladimir agreed that it would be better so. But he couldn't live +without Vasya's clever little curly head. + +"There are so few friends in the world, Vasya. Especially nowadays. +They're all gone; everyone thinks only of himself. But we're tried +friends and true, aren't we, Vasya?" + +They talked together as if the wall between them no longer existed; it +had been broken down. The serpent in Vasya's heart lay dormant; she +thought her jealousy had disappeared. But suddenly, unexpectedly, she +felt the sharp fangs again. Vladimir could not free himself of the +past. He would talk of Nina; it showed how frequently he thought of +her. She was so well educated, he said. She could speak perfect French +with Frenchmen, German with Germans. She had learned that in school. + +"If she's so well educated, why can't she find work? Or does she prefer +to live at the expense of others? I suppose her laziness is in her +blood. Besides, it's much more comfortable to be your mistress." + +Vasya knew she shouldn't say such things; but she could not restrain +herself. The serpent was hurting her; and that was why she wanted to +strike Volodya. Let him suffer, too. + +Volodya frowned, looked at Vasya reproachfully. + +"Why do you say that, Vasya? It's ugly of you. My tomboy Vasya wouldn't +say that. It was another Vassilissa Dementyevna." + +This stung; Vasya was ashamed of herself. But she could not stop. She +tried over and over again to wound Volodya, until he grew furious, and +she came to her senses. + +"Don't be angry, dear. Forgive me! I love you. If I didn't love you, I +wouldn't torment you so...." + +Ecstatic kisses, two bodies seeking each other deliriously--to drown +thought and suffering; to forget--to hide the inevitable truth. + + * * * * * + +Vasya bade the Party Committee farewell, packed the things in the +house. She was concerned about everything, with the scrubbing rags, the +hemp mats, and the straw. She consulted with Marya Semyonovna, held +important conferences with her; how to pack everything so that nothing +would be damaged or broken, so that everything would arrive safely in +the manager's new home. + +"Why do you bother so much about it?" grumbled Marya Semyonovna. "If +you're going back home, why do you work so hard? Mark my word: the +moment you're gone that little lady'll be there to take your place. And +you're working and worrying for her!" + +Why not? Let it be so. She was not helping him as his wife; a wife +would never have done it, would have condemned Vladimir: why had he +become a _burshui_? But now this had nothing to do with her. He was +living for himself, and she for herself. Each was going his own way. +But they were comrades. Why shouldn't she help him? Not because he was +her husband, not because he demanded, expected, or wished it. No; but +as a comrade, as a friend. Nor was she angry with him. If he wanted to +take along all that trash, and to burden the national freight lines +with his cases of dishes and his trunks of silks, it was his own +affair! This was the parting of the ways for them. She could not go +through life hand in hand with him; but why shouldn't she help him pack? + +Volodya could not believe his own eyes. Since when had she become such +a housewife? He sang her praises to Ivan Ivanovitch and the members of +the administration. But again and again he asked Vasya who would put +his new house in order if she didn't come along. + +"Who? Why, what's the matter with Nina Constantinovna? Or doesn't she +want to soil her little white hands? She's a fine lady--everything has +to be prepared for her, and handed her on a silver platter. By others, +at the expense of others." + +She had hurt Volodya, and she was sorry. Why? He looked at her +reproachfully, as if to ask: Why, Vasya? + +"My darling, my sweetheart--I'm nasty, I know it! But it's only because +I love you. Don't be angry, dear. I was only joking." + +She hid her face on Volodya's breast, endeavored to swallow the tears +that were choking her. For she loved him, come what might! She loved +him, suffered, was afraid of losing him. It would be better to die! + +"My poor darling. My Vasyuk. I know you--that's why I love you, why I +can't tear my heart away from you. There's not another such Vasya in +all the world. I'll never have another friend like you!" + +And again that bitter, oppressive delirium dulled their senses--again +they sought to drown their suffering in love. + +"Will you keep a little corner of your heart free for the rebellious +'Anarchist'?" + +"When you're happy, will you think of your tomboy, Vasya?" + +It was a queer time. Passionate, gloomy.... + + + + + FREEDOM + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + +Knock-knock! Knock-knock! + +Vasya was standing before the locked door of her former attic, where +Grusha was living now. She knocked. Downstairs they had told her that +Grusha had come home from work. But the door was locked. Where was +Grusha? + +Knock-knock! Knock-knock! + +Could she be asleep? + +She turned, to see Grusha coming down the hall with a kettle of hot +water. + +"Grusha!" + +"Vassilissa! Dearest! When did you come? So unexpected!" + +Setting the teakettle on the floor, Grusha embraced Vasya. + +"Do come in. It's your attic after all. I owe my living here only to +you. Only wait until I open the door. They steal in this house--it's +terrible. I even lock the door when I go for water. Not long ago +they took a coat that was hanging in Furyashkin's room. A fall coat, +absolutely new. He turned the entire house upside down, and even got +the police. But they didn't find anything. + +"So, you're home now, Vassilissa! Take off your wraps, wash off the +dust of your trip. I was just going to make tea. Do you want something +to eat? I have eggs, bread, and some apples." + +Home? Grusha had said she was at home. But could people like Vasya have +a "home"? + +She looked about. The attic was so familiar. But it wasn't Vasya's +attic any more. There was a sewing machine, a dressmaker's model in +the corner, pieces of cloth lying about, scraps and short threads on +the floor. The walls were bare. Neither Marx nor Lenin, nor the group +of tenants celebrating the founding of the community house. Instead, a +faded red paper fan. Beside it, a postcard with the picture of an egg +and a golden inscription: "Christ hath arisen." An ikon in the corner. +Grusha was not a member of the Party. She believed in God and observed +the fasts, although she was in favor of the Soviet Government and had +many friends among the Communists. She had been engaged to be married; +but her fiancé had gone with the Whites, had probably been killed. And +if he had been killed, the chances were he had been put to death by +the Red Guards. That was why Grusha refused to become a Communist. She +cherished the memory of her lover. + +"If I should join you he would curse me in the other world." + +Before, Vasya had been unable to understand Grusha. How could she +love a White? But now she knew that the heart would not obey orders. +Vladimir and she had come to the parting of the ways; but her love +still was alive, gave her no peace. + +Grusha was glad that Vassilissa had come home. She didn't know which +would be the best place to give her. She fairly overwhelmed her with +news, and wondered why Vasya hadn't gained when she was with her +husband. She had come back as thin as she had been, if not thinner. +Vasya said nothing. She had thought that when she would see Grusha she +would fall into her arms and, weeping, tell her all her troubles. But +when they met, Vasya could not open her mouth, could find no words. How +could she tell anyone about this sorrow? + +The news of Vassilissa's arrival spread through the house. The old +tenants were delighted, while the new ones were curious to see what she +was like. One of the members of the House Committee grumbled that now +she probably would want to get into the administration again. The first +to come to Grusha's room were the children, Vasya's old friends of the +Children's Club. + +The older among them immediately had a complaint to lodge: the +Children's Club had been broken up at the time of the Nep. They had +said it didn't pay, and that the rooms were needed for other purposes. +But where could the children do their lessons now? Their collections +had been broken up and their library had been scattered; some of it had +even been sold. + +Vasya listened. Was such a thing possible? She bridled at once. She +would not let the matter rest. She would go immediately to the Party +Committee, to the Educational and Housing Bureaus. Let the Nep attend +to its own business; but let it keep its hands off the things the +workers had built up laboriously. + +"I'll fight them. I won't permit such a thing. Don't worry, children; +I'll see to it that you get what's coming to you, even if I have to go +to Moscow for it." + +The older boys laughed with delight. They believed in Vasya. She would +surely attend to it; she was going to fight now. The whole house knew +her as "the fighter". That was as it should be. The children were all +for Vassilissa. + +After the children the old tenants came in to greet her. But the moment +they had said: "Good afternoon," each of them had an urgent request +to make of her, everyone had his troubles and wanted to tell her +about them. Vasya listened patiently to them all. As always, she was +interested in everything, advised and consoled them. + +The attic was so crowded that it was impossible to turn around. + +"Wait a little, Comrades," pleaded Grusha. "You're not giving her a +chance to eat. And she's tired, after traveling for so many nights. But +you have to come in with your affairs, and get her all mixed up." + +"Don't, Grusha. Never mind. I'm not at all tired. What were you telling +me, Timofei Timofeiyevitch? Oh yes, about the taxes you're supposed to +pay. How can that be? You're no property owner, nor an employer or +manager..." + +As she uttered the word "manager" she thought of Volodya. But her pain +was submerged in the troubles of others. She had no time for it. + +Her old friends went away, one by one; and, forgetting her weariness, +Vasya decided to go to Party Headquarters and get to work immediately. + +She buttoned her coat, listening to Grusha's news the while. One man +had married, another had left the Party; this girl had become a member +of the Council. Suddenly they heard the voice of the Fedosseyev woman, +resounding through the hall. + +"Where's our darling, our defender? My precious Vassilissa +Dementyevna!" She threw her arms around Vasya's neck, and covered her +with moist kisses. At the same time bitter tears were rolling down her +cheeks and wet Vasya's face. + +"I waited for you so long, dearest! I've been so lonesome for you! I +waited for you as for the sunshine. When Vassilissa Dementyevna, our +protector, comes back she'll straighten out everything. When she's here +the wretch won't dare make his wife a laughing-stock. He'll be ashamed +to disgrace the entire house with that slut. She'll sympathize with +me because I have to take care of the little children all by myself. +She'll take him to court. At least he'll have to submit to the Party. +You, our darling, you're my only hope." + +As a rule Vasya was able to divine the troubles of others from a few +words. But this time she couldn't quite make out what the Fedosseyev +woman was wailing about. Of whom was she complaining? Vasya saw that +she had changed a great deal, almost beyond recognition. She had been +a young, robust, full-bosomed woman--now she had grown thin, old and +yellow. + +What sorrow was breaking her heart? + +Fedosseyev had entered on a love affair with Dora, an "unbaptized" +Jewess. He wanted to have nothing to do with his wife, made her the +laughing-stock of the entire district. No one could make him ashamed of +himself. He had left his own children, was bringing everything to his +sweetheart. Here, little girl, that's for you! Let the family die in +their corner! Only don't chase me away, me, your pock-marked lover. + +"What in the world did that goose Dora see in him?" shrieked the +Fedosseyev woman. "If he were a real man...! But he's disgusting. +He's so damned filthy! I put up with him for eight years, kissed his +pock-marked phiz for the children's sake. Vassilyevitch, I thought, +you're an ass, but fate brought us together and the Church married us, +so I'll have to stand you. When he would be insistent, he'd make me +sick. But I endured him, never looked at anyone else. I thought he'd +be grateful to me. I gave all my youth to the filthy beast; and that's +what I get for it! I lost my good looks, and he ran after that girl. He +had to get mixed up with a Jewish girl! It's a disgrace for the whole +district." + +The Fedosseyev woman wept uncontrollably. Vasya listened; and her own +heart seemed filled with a dark flood. Here she found her own grief and +indignation all over again. She shuddered with disgust. Where had her +pluck gone? She no longer felt any desire to go to the Party Committee. +She wanted only to bury her head in her pillow, and to see nothing more. + +The other, however, continued to sob, to kiss Vassilissa's shoulder, to +beg her to bring her husband to reason and to defend the interests of +the little children. She should threaten him with a court trial. + + * * * * * + +As she went home from Party Headquarters, Vasya was surrounded by her +Comrades. They couldn't stop talking. And Vasya felt so happy and gay. +She had forgotten everything, as if she had never lived for or worried +about anything but the Party. + +She had grown excited, had quarreled and stood her ground; she had +asked questions about everything, and had found out just how the land +lay. It had interested and satisfied her. Her head was working, her +soul seemed to rise. + +She hurried up to her attic without noticing the stairs. Only then she +felt her weariness. + +While Grusha was preparing supper Vasya lay down on the bed, and fell +asleep at once. + +Grusha looked at her friend, undecided as to whether she should wake +her. She felt sorry for her. Vasya was exhausted; let her sleep. + +She undressed Vasya as though she were a child, took off her shoes, +and covered her. She hung a shade over the light, and sat down to sew +button-holes. + +Knock-knock! + +Who the devil could be coming now? Grusha muttered angrily. They never +let a person alone. + +She opened the door. There stood Fedosseyev, the husband. + +"What do you want?" + +"I want to see Vassilissa Dementyevna. Is she at home?" + +"Are you all crazy? She's had a long trip; she's tired, hasn't had a +chance to sleep--and you fall on her like a pack of hungry dogs on a +bone. Vassilissa Dementyevna is asleep." + +Grusha and Fedosseyev had words. Fedosseyev was obstinate, but Grusha +refused to let him in. Tomorrow. They agreed on the next day. + +She banged the door in Fedosseyev's face. A damned filthy fellow. Had a +wife and three children, and Dora was big, too. It was beyond Grusha. + +She considered that Fedosseyev was in the wrong. And she condemned +Dora, too. Why had she started anything with a married man? Weren't +there enough bachelors? Grusha's morals were very strict. She kept +within bounds; for she still remembered her lover. + +When Vasya woke up she felt calm and at peace with the world. The +autumn sun was shining through the window, throwing a golden light on +the seamstress. Grusha was heating her flatiron on the petroleum stove; +she was going to iron a dress. + +"For whom is it?" + +"For a member of the Executive Committee, for a birthday party." + +"What? Are they celebrating birthdays nowadays?" + +"I should say so! You ought to see them--it's better than it used to +be with the rich people. The table is covered with appetizers, wine, +whiskey..." Grusha's iron was hissing; she had no time to talk. Vasya +stretched on the bed. She remembered it well. It was hard and narrow; +yet she had slept in it together with Volodya. How had they ever had +room? Now they had been in each other's way even in a wide bed. + +It had been different in the old days. + +Was her misery trying to creep into her heart again, to disturb her +peace of mind? No, everything was quiet in her heart. The calm that +follows a storm. + +Grusha remembered the appointment with Fedosseyev, and told Vasya about +it. + +"I don't care. Let him come." + +She didn't want to have too much to do with the Fedosseyevs. She +seemed offended because these gossips had been overtaken by the same +misfortune as she. + +She inquired about Dora. Who was she? + +"Don't you remember her?" Grusha was amazed. "She's dark and +pretty--she danced with the tambourine at the Komsomolsk celebration." + +Now Vasya recalled her. Very favorably. She had worked in the tanners' +Cultural Committee. A clever girl; and her youth was no drawback. +Besides, she sang well. How could the Fedosseyev woman think of +comparing with her? + +Grusha's view was different. She condemned Dora; the laws had to be +observed. If the Communists were to permit husbands to act that way, +all the men would desert their wives and little children, and would +take on young girls. The Party was going to take proceedings against +Dora. + +"Take proceedings against her? Only the Fedosseyev woman could be +behind that. A disgusting creature!" Vasya defended Dora. "No law could +force a man to live with a woman he doesn't love. Do you want to force +him to embrace that woman? Even though he loathes her? Even though +she's a common sneak?" + +Vasya was quite wrought up. She was furious with the Fedosseyev woman; +and why? She hardly knew herself. As she fought about the Fedosseyevs +she thought of Vladimir. As she defended Dora she saw the white lace +parasol and Nina's red lips. + +Grusha was surprised to see Vassilissa siding with Fedosseyev. + +"You act as if they were your best friends. Weren't you always railing +against them? You know how much trouble they caused you. Of course, +it's your own affair; but I'd advise you to keep out of this business. +There's no use in getting mixed up in a dog fight." + +Vasya was stubborn. She would stand up for Dora if there were +proceedings against her. "Tell me, if you please: does Fedosseyev's +legal wife think she's the only one who has rights? No. She's mistaken. +There are other rights, not dictated by human laws. They are the +commands of the heart." + +As Grusha pressed the hem of the dress she looked at Vasya attentively, +as if to read her friend's innermost thoughts. + +Vasya frowned. Why did Grusha object? Wasn't Vasya right? Could any law +dictate to the heart? + +"Who said so? The heart is most important of all. You can't be human if +you haven't a heart. But as I look at you now I see clearly that you're +heart-sick, too, Vassilissa, that you're suffering. That's why you're +defending Fedosseyev. You're thinking of your man, aren't you? And you +want to find an excuse for him. I'm right." + +Vasya said nothing, but bowed her head. + +Grusha asked no more questions. Taking the dress from the ironing-board +she shook it out and picked off the loose threads. Now it was finished. + +"Are you through?" asked Vasya, thinking of something quite different. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then I'll go to the Party Committee. Let Fedosseyev wait." + + * * * * * + +Now came days of hard work for Vassilissa. She was preparing to +leave for the weaving works. She conferred with Stepan Alexeyevitch, +acquainted herself with her instructions, and spent her evenings at +meetings of her responsible co-workers. The hours passed so quickly +that she had no time to think, or to listen to her heart. + +And then she had her new worries, about the Fedosseyevs and Dora. They +and their difficulties gave Vasya no rest. + +Fedosseyev had come to her, and had told her everything. + +He had met Dora Abramovna in the Cultural Committee. He had been +singing in the chorus. Dora Abramovna liked his bass, and took him to a +music teacher. She was a musician herself. And she had brought him into +the Cultural Committee. That was how it had begun. But his wife soon +got wind of it, and then there was trouble. + +Fedosseyev complained about his wife; she was spreading all sorts of +rumors, and was setting the Comrades against Dora Abramovna. She was +wailing that Dora was "robbing" her family, and was letting Fedosseyev +support her. The truth was quite the opposite. Not only did Dora +refuse to accept a single kopek from Fedosseyev, but she even helped +the family, sharing everything with them. She thought of the children, +too, had brought the younger ones into the kindergarten, and had given +textbooks and copybooks to the oldest boy, who went to school. Of +course she didn't want the wife to know that. Besides, she had made a +shirt and tie for Fedosseyev to wear to the concerts. But the malicious +gossips had it just the other way. + +Fedosseyev was grieved on Dora's account. It wouldn't hurt him. But he +was worried about her, lest she get into difficulties with the Party +because of him. It was all his wife's fault; she insisted on being in +their way. + +Listening to Fedosseyev, Vasya couldn't help thinking of Vladimir and +Nina. They too had suffered like this, had sought a way out, had been +angry at Vasya because she prevented them from being happy. She had +advised the Fedosseyev woman to get out of the way of her own accord. +It was impossible to block the happiness of others; no matter how +many barriers you would put in its path, you couldn't keep it from +flying over your head. But what was Vasya herself doing? Was not she, +too, standing in the way? Was she not still standing guard over the +happiness that had been? + +Fedosseyev loved Dora. When he spoke of her his face seemed to shine. +She had seen the same change in Vladimir when he thought of Nina. + +"Dora Abramovna has a heart of gold. In the union everybody's fond of +her, too. Those who don't belong to the Party don't think it'll take +any action against her. But if it does, they'll be only too happy. 'Let +her come to us independents; we'll take Dora Abramovna's part, never +fear!'" + +Fedosseyev had hardly left Vasya when his wife caught hold of her, +kissed her shoulders, and begged her to be on her side. + +Vasya, who didn't like Fedosseyeva, crossly waved her away. Whereupon +she filled the entire house with her shouting about Dora, about her +husband, and about Vasya, abusing all three of them at once. + +Vasya met Dora at Party headquarters. They found a corner where the +typists were busily pounding away at their machines, where the noise +permitted them to talk without being overheard. + +Dora was pretty, with clever eyes. Vasya liked her. + +She was trying to hide her pregnancy with a shawl. + +Dora began to speak of her own accord. Not of herself, but of +Fedosseyev. She looked after him, esteemed him, admired his talent; +his voice was excellent, as good as Chaliapin's. All he needed was to +study. That was why Dora wanted to marry him. So that he could break +away from his family and from his cobbling, so that he could devote +himself entirely to his singing. + +But although she spoke highly of Fedosseyev Dora also bewailed his +indecision. As long as he was with her he was prepared to do anything, +fully determined to leave his wife and put through the divorce. But as +soon as he came home it was finished. He would give in, and she would +have to begin all over again. She had been working on him for so many +months! And unsuccessfully. + +Vasya grew disturbed as she listened to Dora. Might not Nina have +spoken of Vladimir in the same way? + +Dora didn't care a rap for all the formalities of divorce and +marriage. It was all nonsense in her eyes; she favored a free union. +But Fedosseyeva would never let them live in peace unless they were +registered in the Commissariat; therefore Dora was making the most of +her being 'in the family way' to move Fedosseyev and induce him to get +the divorce. She wasn't afraid of motherhood. She would be able to take +care of herself without a husband too. + +To move him? To force him to get the divorce? Had Nina done that, too? +Dora, praising Fedosseyev, was expecting Vasya to voice her approval. + +But Vasya was thinking of her own troubles. Dora saw only the good +in Fedosseyev. Nina probably loved Vladimir in the same way. Vasya +was different. She saw Vladimir's bad points, too. She loved him and +suffered for his faults; they distressed her, and she wanted to reform +him. Might this not have hurt Volodya? + +"Why does his wife cling to him so?" Dora spoke wrathfully. "Because +they used to love each other? But that was so long ago! Now there's +nothing to keep them together. She doesn't really know him--she can't +appreciate him--she doesn't understand him at all!" + +Ah, thought Vasya, that's how it was with Vladimir and me. He didn't +know what I wanted, and I couldn't understand his ideas. Our paths went +off in different directions. + +"He's a stranger to his wife; they're different in every respect--in +their tastes and in their ideals. She wants to keep him as a husband, +but she doesn't need him as a man. He's not essential in her life." + +And she, Vasya--did she need Vladimir as a man? Was he essential to her? + +As she asked herself this question her heart answered distinctly: No, +she did not need him--not as he was now. But Dora could not help going +on: "What sort of love is that? They can't bear each other. It's a +cat-and-dog life. Every man for himself. Neither friendship, nor faith +in each other." + +Yes, thought Vasya. Yes; neither friendship, nor faith in each other. + +"And we, Comrade Fedosseyev and I, understand each other as if we had +only one heart, one soul." + +So that was the love of Vladimir and Nina. + +Vasya seemed to understand it only now. She grew thoughtful. + +She had much to do. Urgent Party affairs, preparations for her +departure. Yet she didn't forget the Fedosseyevs. She did her best to +hasten the divorce, tried to reconcile Fedosseyev with his Comrades, +and to defend Dora. + +All this seemed important, very important for Vasya. She couldn't +explain why. + + * * * * * + +Vasya was hurrying home from Party headquarters. She was to leave for +the weaving works the next day. Her head was whirling. How reorganize +the work, follow orders and adapt herself to the many who didn't belong +to the Party? The independents were just like the Communists nowadays. +They wanted to penetrate more and more deeply into everything, to +investigate everything themselves. They took nothing on faith. If you +didn't have a sound basis for your statements you might just as well +not talk to them. + +Her head was full of all this. She seemed to have forgotten her +heartache. She felt as if she had never lost her man, her friend--as if +she had not lived through an entire summer as "the manager's lady". + +Vasya hurried along. She had had nothing to eat since morning. And when +she thought of food she felt sick, everything seemed to grow dark, her +head was reeling. How long? Was she going to be ill, or.... + +A suspicion rose in her mind. It was almost three months since her last +period. Oughtn't she to look up Marya Andreyevna, the physician? She +lived right here, in one of the side streets. They had worked together +in the organization of the nursery for the community houses. She would +have to find out what the trouble was. Vasya couldn't go to her new +work if she was sick. + +She turned into the side street, went up to the little white house, and +rang the bell. The physician, Marya Andreyevna, opened the door herself. + +"How in the world did you happen to come here? Is it a business matter, +or do you want my professional advice?" + +Vasya was on pins and needles; she felt embarrassed, and even blushed. + +After watching her carefully for a while Marya Andreyevna put her hand +on her shoulder. + +"Come into my office--I'll examine you." + +Marya Andreyevna inquired about Vasya's appetite, her periods, her +dizziness. She seemed to know everything in advance. She examined Vasya. + +It was disagreeable and embarrassing for Vasya. She had never consulted +a gynecologist before. She was almost frightened when she had to sit +down on the examination chair. + +As she dressed, her hands trembled so that she couldn't fasten the +hooks. + +Marya Andreyevna stood before the wash-stand in her white smock, and +painstakingly scrubbed her hands with soap and a brush. + +For a while neither spoke. + +"Well, dear Comrade Vassilissa, I don't know whether you'll be glad or +sorry, but there's no doubt about it. You're in the family way." + +Vasya was surprised. But in a moment a smile flitted over her face. A +baby? That would be nice. + +"Will you go back to your husband now?" asked the white-smocked +physician as she dried her hands on an embroidered towel. + +"To my husband? No." Vasya shook her head. "I'm not going back to +him--we've separated. Each of us is going his own way." + +"You've separated? This is a fine time for it! How will you arrange +things now? We may yet be able to stop the business. What do you say? +Where will you go all alone with your child? You're not strong." + +"I'm not alone, though. Tomorrow I'm leaving for the weaving works. +There's a fine group there, mostly women, weavers. We'll all work +together there, organize a nursery. Oh, yes, that's what I wanted to +ask you: how did you make the nursery self-supporting? Tell me about +it, please, and advise me." + +They discussed the nursery, subsidies, contributions, the payment of +professional employes. Vasya forgot the "news" about herself. Marya +reminded her of it when she was leaving. + +"Don't undertake too much work! Remember that your health is none too +good. I'm afraid for you, my dear!" + +She gave Vasya some advice. One thing was prohibited, while another +was good for her. Vasya listened, and tried to remember everything. +For the child's sake. It should be a strong baby. It was so little, so +helpless.... + +She reached the street, smiled as she walked along. + +A baby! That would be nice. She would show the other women how to raise +a child in the Communist way. There was no need for a kitchen, for +family life and all that nonsense. The thing to do was to organize a +nursery, a self-supporting community house. Practice was better than +preaching. + +Vasya was so occupied with the idea of self-support that she even +forgot her child. The thought of Vladimir, however, never entered her +mind, as though he had had nothing to do with it. + +Vasya was packing. A box containing Volodya's picture and his letters +fell over. On the top of the pile lay a narrow, tinted envelope, Nina +Constantinovna's letter. + +Vasya looked at it, turned it over and over. She knew it by heart, yet +she wanted to read it again. It would revive her heartache; but she +could not resist it. Whenever she read it the old pain again gnawed at +her heart; then it would freeze--that was her wrath against Vladimir. +Why had he lied? Why had he deceived her? + +She took up the letter, went closer to the window. It was growing dark. +She unfolded the familiar sheet. She read it carefully, every word. + +But the gnawing pain was gone. And the serpent, that venomous +tormentor, seemed to have lost its strength. + +Instead, Vasya felt pity stirring in her heart. Sympathy for Nina +Constantinovna's tears. Sympathy with the grief, the sorrow, the +distress of another woman's heart. She remembered Nina going away from +the bandstand, wiping away her tears with her fingers. + +Why had she suffered? Why had she exposed herself to such anguish? She +had expected a baby; and she had got rid of it. Why? + +Going over to the table, Vasya pushed aside Grusha's pieces of cloth, +set down the ink and began to write a letter. + + "Nina Constantinovna! + + "I don't know you, have no idea of what you really are. I've seen + you only once. And I will tell you quite frankly that I didn't like + you. But when you cried, as you went away from the bandstand, my + heart understood your pain and suffered with you. + + "I have just reread your letter to Vladimir Ivanovitch. I'm + returning it to you; my taking it was quite unwarranted, and I kept + it from Vladimir. But it has served its purpose. So you needn't be + angry with me on this account. + + "I've thought a great deal about your letter. Now that I have just + reread it I know that I cherish no grudge against you, that I'm not + angry with you any more. I see that you, too, have suffered much + because of me. Let me, therefore, tell you what I've already told + Vladimir: We've had enough of this game of hide and seek. You must + become Vladimir Ivanovitch's wife, his legal wife. The two of you + are better suited to each other. I'm not the proper wife for him, + for our tastes differ, and our lives run in different directions. I + never know what he thinks, and he doesn't understand me. + + "When we separated, Vladimir and I, it was not because you had + stolen him away from me; you could take possession of his heart + only because he no longer loved me. I shall continue to live now + just as I used to live before without Vladimir. You, however, + actually cannot live without him. It is always so when two people + love each other. + + "Vladimir Ivanovitch and I lived in a free union, so that no + divorce is required. + + "I do not reproach you. If I had known sooner how you love each + other, I would have done this long ago. Tell Vladimir Ivanovitch + that I feel no bitterness toward him, but will always be his + friend, as I always used to be. And should you ever need anything I + shall always be ready to help you or to be of service to you. There + was a time when my heart held little love for you. But now that I + understand everything I feel only deep sympathy for you, for all + your tears, for the suffering and heartache of a woman. I wish you + great happiness, as I would a sister. Remember me to Vladimir, and + tell him to take good care of his bride. + + "In any case, I'm giving you my new address. If you want to write + me, I will answer. For we aren't enemies, Nina Constantinovna, even + though, unintentionally, we caused each other much pain. Neither of + us wanted to hurt the other. + + "Good-bye. I wish you all the happiness in the world, + + "Vassilissa Malygina." + +At the end of the letter she wrote down her exact address. Then she put +both letters into an envelope, moistened the flap with her tongue, and +pasted it together. + +Then, suddenly, her soul--not her reason--told her: this is the end. + +The end? But where was the pain? + +There was no pain. + +Where was her grief? Her gnawing, benumbing grief? + +The grief, too, had gone. + +Volodya "the American" was there--not Vladimir Ivanovitch. She thought +of Vladimir and saw Nina. She thought of Nina, and Vladimir appeared +beside her. + +As though they had become one for Vasya--one, indivisible, inseparable. + +One. The thought of it did not hurt her. Let them be one. + +Her heart was calm, full of peace. Like a garden after a tempest. + + * * * * * + +Vasya stood beside the window, enjoying the sunset. The sun was sinking +behind purple, gold-edged clouds, as in a storm. The crows were +circling over the earth, cawing, seeking a shelter for the night. + +The air smelled of dry leaves, mushrooms and autumn earth. Fragrant, +refreshing, familiar. Not spicy and enervating, as in Vladimir's +country. + +Vasya drew a deep breath, avidly drinking in the air. + +Yes, life was beautiful. + +She leaned out of the window. In the little courtyard Grusha was +hastening to get the clean clothes off the line while it was still +daylight. + +"Grusha. Grusha. Come here, quick. I have some news. Good news...." + +"I'm on my way." + +She came in, threw the laundry on the bed. + +"What's the news? Did you get a letter?" + +"A letter? Yes, it's a letter; but I didn't get it--I wrote it. Guess +to whom!" + +"To none other than Vladimir Ivanovitch, I'm sure." + +"But you're wrong! Not to him, but to the little lady, his wife, Nina +Constantinovna." + +Grusha was astonished. "Why did you do that?" + +"You see, Grusha, when I read that letter of Nina's over again I felt +so sorry for her. After all she suffered, too, on my account. And +she lost a baby because of me. She endured everything, grieved, was +miserable. And why? We're not rivals, after all. We're not enemies. If +she had taken Vladimir from me in cold blood, without love, I would +never have forgiven her, would always have been furious at her. But now +that I really understand her.... For she loves Vladimir. She loves him +very much, more than I do. And she's right. + +"Life without Vladimir means nothing to her. That's why she writes: +'I can't live without you!' Do I need Vladimir? I've thought it over, +Grusha, many times; and now I realize that I won't grieve for him. +If Volodya 'the American' could come back, it would be different. I +long for him, Grusha, for the old Volodya. But, you see, the American +doesn't exist any more! And he'll never return! So why should I torment +Nina? Why disturb the happiness of these two? What do I care about the +'manager'? I don't need him." + +"Yes," agreed Grusha, "you don't need the manager. That's the worst of +it, the way so many of our men have deserted us to become managers. +But don't be unhappy, Vassilissa. There are plenty of our boys left. +Just look at those who don't belong to the Party! You'll find true +Communists among them, real proletarian Communists." + +"Of course, we're getting new recruits. But the others? They exchanged +their proletarianism long ago for lamps and quilts. They don't +understand us. So, you see, Grusha, I thought: Why torment Nina? Why +hold on to Vladimir? He was neither married nor free. What was the +sense in that state of affairs? It would have to be stopped; and that +without bitterness. They had suffered enough. I didn't quite understand +all this when I left Vladimir. I was still expecting something, hoping +for something. I thought that if Vladimir left me for another woman I +would die of grief. I was numbed with pain when I came here; I didn't +even notice the trip. But when I went to work in the Party Committee, +when others came to me with their worries and troubles, it seemed to me +that my sorrow was gone. Will you believe me? I can honestly say that I +feel neither bitterness nor jealousy. Everything is calm and quiet." + +"Mother of God, I thank thee!" Grusha quickly crossed herself, and +glanced at the ikon in the corner. "I did not kneel and pray to our +Holy Lady all these nights in vain, Vassilissa. 'Help a woman's +heart,' I prayed. 'Help Vassilissa.'" + +Vasya smiled. "Stop, Grusha! You're incorrigible! Do you still believe +in ikons? But what you said is true: I'm cured. How many months was I +walking about like a somnambulist! I wasn't conscious. I didn't live. I +forgot the Party. But now I'm well again. Everything delights me now, +everything's new to me. The old world still goes round. Vladimir may +be gone, but the Party is there. That's how I felt after I had typhus, +when I began to recuperate." + +"I'm only afraid that you'll have another attack, that your husband'll +write some more of those damned letters of his." + +"No, Grusha, that won't happen again!" Thoughtfully Vasya shook her +head. "My heart has changed altogether. I resent nothing, reproach him +with nothing; my jealousy of Nina has disappeared. But my pity for them +remains. All three of us were lost in a labyrinth. We were angry at +one another. And we couldn't find the way out before we had lost our +bitterness. When I took Nina into my heart I stepped out of that maze +of suffering. It was not because I forgave her; what did I have to +forgive? But I sympathized with her as with a sister, for she had known +a woman's pain, and had suffered as much as I. Not through her own +fault, but because life still hasn't reached the ideal. I pitied her +and I felt better." + +"And it couldn't be otherwise if you don't love him any more. Love +always brings suffering. It gives you a little joy--but sorrow follows +it like a shadow. And when you feel no more pain your love's at an end, +too." + +"That's not true, Grusha; you mustn't look at things that way," Vasya +shook her head. "I haven't stopped loving Vladimir. He's still in my +heart. But my love has changed. It no longer makes me miserable; I'm +not angry at him any more. I am grateful to him for the love that has +been, for the happiness we felt together. Why should I be vexed with +Vladimir? As long as he loved me we were happy. Now he has stopped +loving me--who's to blame for that? I thank him for what has been. I +feel as if Vladimir had become my brother, and Nina my sister." + +"I can't quite see your regarding Nina as a sister. You're trying to +fool yourself, Vassilissa. Don't try to be too clever--don't be a +super-Communist. Of course it's better that you've forgiven Vladimir +about Nina. Forgiven and forgotten. Out of your heart, and out of +your mind. But as for love--don't! Keep your love, your heart for the +workers instead. They're having a hard time now. Many of them have lost +faith in themselves. They don't get much out of your Party doctrines. +Give them something more, food and warmth for the heart. I'm not a +member of the Party, but I see everything nevertheless. Just ask me, +Vassilissa, and I'll always tell you the truth." + +"I know you're with us, Grusha; we all know that. But why do you still +insist on believing in your ikons? Now, don't pout, don't be offended. +I won't say another word. I won't tease you any more, and I won't +quarrel with you. I'm in such a festive mood today, Grusha. I feel so +happy, so gay, so free! And do you know who cured me? Do you? Try to +guess!" + +"I can't imagine!" + +"The Fedosseyevs." + +"You don't mean it! Then let that Fedosseyev woman be forgiven for all +her sins and meanness!" + +They laughed. + +"But I haven't even told you the biggest news of all, Grusha. I saw the +doctor. I'm expecting a baby." + +"A baby?" Grusha clapped her hands. "Really? Then how could you let +your husband go? Will you let the baby be fatherless, or are you going +to be fashionable, and have an abortion?" + +"Why an abortion? Let the child grow. I don't need a man. That's all +they can do--be fathers! Look at the Fedosseyev woman with her three +children--they didn't keep her husband from going to Dora." + +"That's all very well; but how will you bring it up all by yourself?" + +"All by myself? The organization will bring it up. We'll fix up a +nursery. And I'll bring you over to work there. You like children, too. +Then it'll be our baby. We'll have it in common." + +Again they laughed. + +"But now, Grusha, I have to hurry with my packing. The train leaves +early in the morning. I'm going to my work tomorrow. I'm going to +arrange everything just as I want it. Stepan Alexeyevitch has given me +his blessing. Back to work! Grusha, do you realize the joy of that?" + +She seized Grusha's hands, and the two danced about the room like +children. They almost knocked over the dressmaker's model. + +They laughed uproariously. Even the people downstairs in the courtyard +could hear them. + +"We must live, Grusha! Live!" + + + FINIS + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75463 *** diff --git a/75463-h/75463-h.htm b/75463-h/75463-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15a59a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/75463-h/75463-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7673 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Red Love | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop {display: none;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap { font-variant:small-caps; } + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +div.titlepage { + text-align: center; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; +} + +div.titlepage p { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; + margin-top: 3em; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 4px; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph1 { font-size: x-large; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: right; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph3 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph3 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75463 ***</div> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>RED LOVE</h1> + +<p class="ph1">By ALEXANDRA KOLLONTAY</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">New York</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Seven Arts</span><br> +PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1927, by</span><br> +SEVEN ARTS PUBLISHING CO.</p> + +<p><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p>First Printing, March, 1927<br> +Second Printing, March, 1927</p> + +<p>AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION</p> + +<p><i>Printed in the United States of America by</i><br> +J. J. LITTLE AND IVES COMPANY, NEW YORK</p> + + +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="FOREWORD">FOREWORD</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">To the English Edition</span></p> + + +<p>This novel is neither a study in "morals," nor a picture of the +standard of life in Soviet Russia. It is a purely psychological study +of sex-relations in the post-war period.</p> + +<p>I have chosen the environment of my own country and made my own people +protagonists, for I know them better and could give a more vivid +picture of their inner life and characters. Many of the problems +presented are not exclusively Soviet-Russian; they are world-wide +facts, which can be noted in all countries. These silent psychological +dramas, born of the change in the sexual relations; this evolution, +especially, in the feelings of women, are well known to the younger +generation of Europe.</p> + +<p>Do we ever judge a man for his conduct in love-affairs? Generally, if +he does not overstep certain, very flexible limits, we say that his +sexual life is his own "private affair." The character of a man is +evaluated not by his conduct in family morals, but by his efficiency +in work, by his intellect, his will, his usefulness to the State and +Society. As long as the majority of women had no direct duties to the +State or to Society, as long as their whole activity was concentrated +within the family limits, civilized nations demanded no other qualities +in woman than that she display "good morals" in sexual and family life.</p> + +<p>Now, when more than half of the grown-up women-citizens in most +countries toil and struggle, just as the men do, Society puts new +demands on the women. Their ability to respond to the social duties +of a citizen begins to have more value than their "goodness" and +"stainlessness" in family morals. Family life is not the unique field +of activity for women nowadays; often enough her family duties come +into bitter conflict with her out-of-home work and her public duties. +It is only natural, therefore, that the method of evaluating a woman +today is different from that of our grandfathers and grandmothers.</p> + +<p>Though a woman may, at the present time, attain "perfection" in the +current bourgeois standard of family morals, and be "esteemed" by her +own people, she may neither receive the real appreciation of society +nor the "respect" of the State. She will merely be "overlooked." On +the contrary: a woman may not be "spotless" from the point of view +of current bourgeois sex morals, but if she is an outstanding figure +in politics, art, science, etc., one will not even "whisper" about +her behind her back. Were one to put into the balance two women: one +with "good morals," but who never did any useful work for the country +or humanity, and the other, whose "family morals" are not free from +criticism, but who is an efficient public worker—there would be no +doubt about the choice.</p> + +<p>Our criteria in sex morals are always changing. There is never a +standstill. There are merely periods in human history when the +evolution of morals goes on more rapidly, other periods (with a +general stagnation in all fields of life) when change seems to relax. +Only half a century ago Dumas-fils wrote of a "divorcée" as of a +"fallen" creature, while today France openly discusses the question +of equalizing the rights of non-legal mothers with those of legally +married women. There remains less and less of the old bourgeois +hypocrisy in our way of thinking and judging of sex morals.</p> + +<p>I do hope that this book will aid in combating the old, bourgeois +hypocrisy in moral values and show once more that we are beginning to +respect woman, not for her "good morals," but for her efficiency, for +her ingenuity with respect to her duties toward her class, her country +and humanity as a whole.</p> + +<p>Mexico City, March 10th, 1927</p> + + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#FOREWORD">FOREWORD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc">PART ONE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#LOVE"><span class="smcap">Love</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc">PART TWO</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#MENAGE"><span class="smcap">Menage</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc">PART THREE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#FREEDOM"><span class="smcap">Freedom</span></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdc"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LOVE">LOVE</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Vassilissa was a working-girl twenty-eight years old, a knitter by +trade. Thin, anemic, a typical child of the city. Her hair, cut short +after typhus, grew in curls. From a distance she looked like a boy. +She was flat-chested, and wore a shirtwaist and a worn-out leather +belt. She was not pretty. But her eyes were beautiful: brown, friendly, +observant. Thoughtful eyes. Those eyes would never pass by another's +sorrow.</p> + +<p>She was a Communist. At the beginning of the war she had become a +Bolshevik. She hated the war from the first. Collections had been made +in the shop for the front; people were ready to work overtime for the +Russian victory. But Vassilissa objected. War was a bloody horror. What +was the good of it? War brought hardships to the people. And you felt +so sorry for the soldiers, the poor young fellows—like sheep being +led to the slaughter. When Vassilissa met a detachment on the street, +going to war in full military array, she always had to turn away. They +were going to meet death, but they shouted and sang at the top of their +lungs! And how lustily they sang, as if they were out for a holiday. +What forced them? They should have refused: We won't go to our death; +we won't kill other men! Then there would be no war.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa was able to read and write well; she had learned from her +father, a compositor. She read Tolstoy and liked his work.</p> + +<p>In the shop she was the only one "for peace." She would have been +discharged, but all hands were needed. The manager looked askance at +her, but did not let her go. Soon Vassilissa was known throughout the +district: she is against the war, a follower of Tolstoy. The women +stopped speaking to her: she doesn't want to have anything to do with +her country; she doesn't love Russia. She is lost!</p> + +<p>Reports of her reached the local organizer, a Bolshevik. He became +acquainted with Vassilissa, and talked with her; soon his opinion was +formed: "A girl of character; knows what she's about. The party could +use her."</p> + +<p>She was drawn into the organization. But Vassilissa did not become a +Bolshevik immediately. She quarreled with the members of the Party. +Asked them questions, and went away furious. After long deliberation +she came back of her own accord, saying: "I want to work with you."</p> + +<p>During the Revolution she helped in the work of organization, and +became a member of the Workers' Council. She liked the Bolsheviki and +admired Lenin because he opposed the war so uncompromisingly.</p> + +<p>In her debates with the Mensheviki and the Social Revolutionists she +spoke skilfully, heatedly, tempestuously, never at a loss for words. +The other women, working-women, were timid, but Vassilissa always spoke +up without hesitation whenever it was necessary. And what she said +always was clear and to the point.</p> + +<p>She won the respect of her comrades. Under Kerensky she was a candidate +for the municipal Duma. The girls in the knitting-shop were proud of +her. Now her every word was law. Vassilissa knew how to manage women, +speaking amicably, upbraiding them, as the case required. She knew +everyone's troubles, for she had been in the factory herself since her +girlhood. And she defended their interests. Her comrades sometimes +rebuked her: "Can't you forget your women? We have no time for them +now—there are more important things."</p> + +<p>Vassilissa flared up, gave the Comrades a good berating, and quarreled +with the district secretary. But she did not withdraw her demands. "Why +are women's affairs less important? This idea is a habit with all of +you. That's why women are 'backward.' But you can't have a revolution +without the women. Woman is everything. Man does what she thinks and +suggests to him. If you win over the women, half your work is done."</p> + +<p>Vassilissa was very belligerent in '18. She knew what she wanted; and +she did not compromise. The others relaxed a bit in the last few years, +lagged behind and stayed at home. But Vassilissa carried on. Always +fighting, always organizing something, always insisting on a definite +point.</p> + +<p>She was tireless. Where did she get her energy? She was delicate, +with not a drop of blood in her face—only eyes. Sympathetic eyes, +intelligent and observant.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vassilissa received a letter, the long and hungrily expected letter +from her man, her comrade, her lover. They had been separated for +months. There was nothing they could do about it. First the civil war, +and now the "economic front." The party was mobilizing all its members. +The Revolution was no game; it demanded sacrifices from everybody. So +Vassilissa, too, brought her sacrifice to the Revolution. Nearly always +she had to live without her lover, far away from him. They were torn +apart, at opposite ends of Russia. Her friends said: "You're better off +this way. He'll love you longer, because he won't get tired of you." +Perhaps they were right; but life was sad without him. True, Vassilissa +had little free time. From early morning until late at night she was +overwhelmed with work for the Party and for the Soviet, one crowding +out the other. Important, urgent, fascinating work. But when she came +to her little room her heart was convulsed with longing for her lover. +She felt an icy draught. She would sit down to drink tea and to think. +It seemed as if no one needed her. As if she had no comrades, although +she had worked with them all day—as if she had no goal for which she +was striving. What was the use of it all? Who wanted it? Mankind? Men +couldn't appreciate it. Today, again, they had spoiled something, +called one another names, made complaints. Everyone was working for +himself alone. They refused to understand that they must live for +society. They could not understand.</p> + +<p>Even Vassilissa had been insulted, rudely abused, reproached for her +worker's <i>payok</i> (ration-card). The devil take it—she didn't need it! +Her comrades had persuaded her. Now her strength was leaving her; she +felt dizzy. There she sat, leaning on the table, and drank her tea, +nibbled rock-candy, and brooded over all the affronts of the day. Now +she could see nothing good or splendid in the Revolution. Only failure, +vexation and struggle.</p> + +<p>If only her lover had been there. Then she could have talked and +unburdened her heart. He would have caressed her tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Why so dejected, Vasya? A tomboy like you, afraid of no one, +challenging everybody, overlooking nothing—and now look at her: there +she sits with ruffled feathers, like a puffed-up sparrow under the +gable!"</p> + +<p>He would pick her up; he was strong, would carry her about the room +like a child and sing a lullaby. They would laugh—her heart ached +with joy. Oh, how Vassilissa adored her lover, her man and comrade. A +handsome fellow, tender and loving—so tender.</p> + +<p>Thinking of him, Vassilissa felt even more wretched. Her attic was so +desolate, so lonely. She sighed. Clearing away the tea things, she +scolded herself. What in the world do you want? Do you expect only joy +from life? You love your work. You have the esteem of your comrades. +And then you have your lover. Isn't that more than enough, Vassilissa +Dementyevna? The Revolution is no holiday; everyone must sacrifice. +"Everything for the commonweal; everything for the triumph of the +Revolution."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Thus Vassilissa in the winter. But now it was spring. The sun shone so +gayly, the sparrows chattered under the gables. Early in the morning +Vassilissa watched them, smiling as she remembered her lover calling +her a puffed-up sparrow. Spring sounded a call to life. It was more +and more difficult to work. Vassilissa was anemic, and her lungs were +affected.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa had organized a community house, a task she had taken over +of her own accord, and which was entirely independent of her general +Party and Soviet work. This community house was dearest of all to +her. She had long had the idea of organizing a model house, where the +Communist spirit should prevail. Not an ordinary community house, +where everyone would live for himself, where no one cared for his +neighbor, where squabbling, bickering, and dissatisfaction were the +rule, where no one was willing to work for the common good, where +everyone was constantly making demands. No, Vassilissa had planned +something quite different. Patiently, almost secretly, she had got the +house ready. How many difficulties she had had! The house had been +taken away from her twice. It had involved her in innumerable disputes. +But finally she had succeeded. Had organized it: a community kitchen, a +laundry, a nursery, a dining-room—Vassilissa's pride, with curtains at +the windows, and geranium plants—and a library, furnished like a club +room.</p> + +<p>At the beginning everything went well. The women who lived in the +house covered Vassilissa with their moist kisses; "There's our little +darling. Our guardian angel. You've made everything so easy for us. +It's too wonderful."</p> + +<p>But then the trouble began. The house rules were broken. It was +impossible to teach the women cleanliness. They fought over the pots +and pans in the kitchen. They let the washtubs overflow, almost +flooding the house. And every mistake, every quarrel, every disturbance +brought complaints against Vassilissa, as if she were the "landlady," +as if she had been at fault. Punishments became necessary. The tenants +grew angry, felt offended; some of them moved away.</p> + +<p>Matters went on in this fashion, growing worse and worse. Constant +quarrels and differences. There were a couple of real trouble-makers, +the Fedosseyevs; nothing could please them. Always nagging and nagging, +though they didn't know themselves what they wanted; never satisfied. +And they stirred up the others. Chiefly because they had been the first +to move into the house, and felt as if it belonged to them. But what +did they want? What didn't they like? Vassilissa couldn't understand. +And they embittered her life, caused trouble every day.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa was weary, vexed to tears. She saw the failure of her plan. +Then, a new order: everything must be paid for with cash on delivery. +Water and electricity. Taxes must be paid, assessments must be covered. +Vassilissa was beset on all sides. There was no use! The new exchange +rate. Nothing could be done without money. Vassilissa worked like +a slave. It might have been better to drop the whole business. But +she was not that sort. Once she put her hand to anything, she saw it +through.</p> + +<p>She went to Moscow, visiting various bureaus day after day. She +approached the highest authorities. Her reports and accounts were +received very favorably; finally she won her community house. They even +assisted her with an allowance for repairs. But in the future she would +nevertheless have to make the house self-supporting.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa returned delighted. The Fedosseyevs, however, were sulky. +They were cross with her, as if she had harmed them by winning her +fight for the community house.</p> + +<p>Now new worries began. The rumor spread that Vassilissa did not keep +her house accounts straight, that she made a little profit on the side.</p> + +<p>It was hard, then, without her lover. She needed a close comrade. She +wrote to him, called him. But important affairs prevented his coming. +He had a new position of great responsibility. He had to systematize +and reorganize the affairs of the firm in which he had formerly been a +clerk. He had been complaining all winter; it was a difficult task. It +was impossible for him to get away. Everything rested on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>So Vassilissa remained alone in all her difficulties, drained to the +dregs the cup of man's unfairness. And who was unfair? Her own people, +her comrades, the workers! This hurt more than anything else. If it had +only been the <i>burshui</i>!</p> + +<p>When the Fedosseyevs were to be put out, the two of them begged +Vassilissa to forgive them, assured her that they had always esteemed +her. But she could not enjoy her victory. She was tired, worn out, too +exhausted to be glad. She fell ill.</p> + +<p>Then she returned to her work. But in her soul something had died.</p> + +<p>She no longer loved the community house. It was as if her child had +been violated. Like an incident of her childhood: her brother, Kolyka, +showed her a piece of candy. But when she reached out for it he laughed +spitefully, saying: "Now I'll make it disgusting for you."</p> + +<p>And he spat on it. "Why don't you eat your candy, Vassilissa? It's +good."</p> + +<p>But Vassilissa turned away in tears. "You dirty thing! You bully! You +good-for-nothing! Why did you spoil my candy?"</p> + +<p>This was how she felt about the community house now. She was sick of +it. True, the management was still in her hands, but her heart wasn't +in it. If only she could get away! Her relations with the tenants had +been spoiled. Were they not against her? Didn't they side with the +Fedosseyevs? And why? Why?</p> + +<p>On the whole, she lost her interest in people. Before, Vassilissa +had been much more warm-hearted. She had thought of everyone, pitied +everyone, worried about everyone. Now she wanted only one thing: leave +me alone. Don't touch me! I'm tired.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Spring was peeping through the window of Vassilissa's attic, high up +under the roof. The warm sun peeped in, and the spring sky, with its +fleecy clouds, white, delicate, melting away. Next door was the roof +of what had been a gentleman's house, and now was used as the Mothers' +Home. Behind it lay a garden; the buds were beginning to swell. Spring, +beloved spring was late, but it had come at last.</p> + +<p>Today there was spring in Vassilissa's heart also. It had almost +frozen in the winter; always lonely, always alone. Constant worries, +struggles, irritations. But today was a holiday, a real holiday. There +was a letter from her lover, from her dearest Volodya. And what a +letter! It was a long time since she had got a letter like that.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"Don't torture me, Vasya; my patience is at an end. How often you've +promised to come to me for a visit! But you always disappoint me, you +hurt me, you tireless tomboy of mine. Have you been fighting with +everybody again? There were rumors about you even among the comrades +here. They say you even got into the papers. But since you came out on +top in this business, come to your beloved Volodya now. He can hardly +wait for you.</p> + +<p>"You'll see, we'll live like fine people. I have a horse and a cow of +my own, and an automobile always at my disposal. I have servants, so +that you will have no work to do in the house, but can take a good +rest. Spring is at its height here; the apple trees are in full bloom. +Vasya, darling tomboy—we've never spent a spring together. But our +life must always be like the spring.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, I need you very much just now. I'm having trouble with the +Party Committee here. They have it in for me. They can't forget that I +was once an anarchist. It started on account of Savelyev, as I wrote +you. You'll have to straighten out this business. I'm sick of all +these meddlers. They don't let you breathe! It's hard for them to find +anything against me. I'm doing my duty well. But all the same, I need +you very much now.</p> + +<p>"I kiss your brown eyes.</p> + +<p class="ph2">"Yours forever,<br> +"Volodya."</p> +</div> + +<p>Vassilissa sat beside the window, watching the white clouds in the sky, +and thinking. Her eyes were smiling. A good letter! Volodya loved her, +very much. And how she loved him! She laid the letter on her knees +and stroked it as if it were Volodya's head. She didn't see the blue +sky, the roof, the clouds. She saw only her handsome Volodya with his +mischievously twinkling eyes. Vassilissa loved him, loved him so that +it hurt. How had she ever lived through the entire winter without him? +She hadn't seen him for seven months. And it seemed to her that she +had little thought of him, little longing for him. She had no time to +think of her man, or to yearn for him. How much trouble and worry she +had had during the winter! The child of her heart, the community house, +was safe; but she had had to quarrel with stupid, uncomprehending, +uncultured people. And she had hidden her love and longing for Volodya +in the innermost corner of her heart. Her love for him dwelt in her +heart, unchangeable. Thinking of him, Vassilissa felt that he was +there, in her heart. A sweet burden, she actually felt the weight of +her love. Probably because she always had to be worrying about him. +If only nothing happened to him. He did not maintain discipline. The +comrades were right. Vassilissa knew it. They accused him of being an +"anarchist." He didn't like to follow instructions, preferred to do +things in his own way. But he made up for this with his work.</p> + +<p>This was why they lived separately, so that they wouldn't disturb each +other; for she too was in her work with all her heart and soul. But +when Volodya was around, she would be drawn to him, and her work would +suffer.</p> + +<p>"First our work, and then our love, don't you think so, Vasya?" said +Vladimir, and Vasya agreed. Their ideas were the same. And it was so +wonderful that they were not merely man and wife, but comrades as well. +Now, again, he summoned her to help him like a comrade, to overcome his +difficulties. What sort of difficulties? Vassilissa read the letter +again.</p> + +<p>A mist seemed to form before her eyes. If it was on account of +Savelyev, it would be a nasty affair. This Savelyev was a speculator; +he was crooked. Why did Volodya have anything to do with him? A +manager, such as Volodya was now, had to be as blameless as a saint, +had to avoid all rogues. Volodya, however, was a trusting soul. He felt +sorry for Savelyev, stood up for him. Still, no one should feel sorry +for such men, who were stealing the property of the people. Let them +suffer the penalty for their misdeeds.</p> + +<p>But Volodya was kind-hearted; and the others could not understand him. +They would have other explanations for this friendship. Volodya had +many enemies, for he was hot-headed, unable to control his tongue. If +only matters wouldn't develop as they had three years ago. If only no +action were brought against him. It was easy to lose one's reputation. +A charge could be trumped up against anyone. Vassilissa's experience +had taught her that. Hadn't people been stirred up against her all +winter long? Now it was Volodya's turn.</p> + +<p>She would have to go to him, and help him. She had to stand by him, so +that his comrades there would be ashamed of themselves. What was there +to think about? She would get ready and go.</p> + +<p>But the house? She didn't care. There was nothing to salvage now. +Everything was going to ruin anyhow. Even though Vassilissa had won the +fight, the Fedosseyevs were the actual victors. It was impossible to +save anything. Vassilissa sighed. Going to the window, she looked down +into the court. As if she were bidding the house farewell. She stood +there for a long time. Gravely, sadly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it struck her. "Soon I'll see Volodya again!" Her cheeks +flushed, her heart beat with joy. My beloved, my dearest. I'm coming, +coming to you. My Volodya.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vassilissa was sitting in the coach, sleeping. It was her second day of +travel. Another twenty-four hours lay ahead of her.</p> + +<p>This trip was different from her others. She was provided with every +comfort, like a <i>burshuika</i>. Vladimir had sent her the money for the +trip, (everything had to be paid for nowadays), and had asked that she +go in the sleeping-car. Besides, he had sent her a piece of cloth for a +suit. A manager's lady had to be well dressed. Vassilissa had to laugh +when a comrade came from Vladimir Ivanovitch, the director, and brought +her the money and the cloth. He praised the quality like a true +salesman. Vasya laughed and teased the Comrade. But he seemed offended. +He had not been joking; the material really was excellent. Vasya said +nothing more. These new Comrades, the economists, were beyond her +comprehension.</p> + +<p>For a long time Vasya turned the cloth over and over. She was not used +to thinking of clothes. But if Volodya wanted it, so that his wife +would not be too conspicuous—all right. She would have a fashionable +suit made, such as everyone was wearing.</p> + +<p>She went to a friend, the seamstress Grusha, and told her the story. +"Make it nice and stylish, Grusha, like the clothes others wear."</p> + +<p>Grusha pulled out some fashion magazines that a comrade had brought +her from Moscow the previous fall. She had sewed according to it all +winter, to the satisfaction of all.</p> + +<p>"That's fine, Grusha. You select something. I don't understand such +things. If it's neat and not torn, I'm satisfied. I know nothing about +the styles."</p> + +<p>Moistening her finger-tips, Grusha spent some time in turning over the +leaves of the much-used magazine. At last she found her choice.</p> + +<p>"There! This'll be good for you. You are thin, you need something to +make you seem fuller. This is just the thing for you. A little fullness +in the sides, and pleats in front, then you won't look so flat. I'll +fix it so that your man will like you."</p> + +<p>"Then that's settled."</p> + +<p>They agreed on a price, and kissed. Vassilissa went away happy. It was +a good thing there were dress-makers in the world. She would never +have been able to make a dress by herself. Volodya, however, was a +connoisseur of women's clothes. Of course, for in America he had been +employed in a fashionable women's wear shop. And now his knowledge +was useful to him. The Red merchants must know something of women's +clothes; they were a form of merchandise.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vassilissa was sitting at the window of her sleeping compartment. She +was alone. Her neighbor, a "Nep" girl, very loud, dressed in silks, +heavily perfumed, her ears weighed down with rings, had gone into the +next compartment, where she was laughing loudly with her "cavaliers."</p> + +<p>She had given Vassilissa the cold shoulder, curling her lips +contemptuously. "Beg pardon, dear, but you're sitting on my shawl. +You'll crease it." Or, "Won't you go out into the corridor, dear, while +I get undressed for the night?" As if she, the perfumed Nep-girl, owned +the compartment, and had let Vassilissa in only out of the kindness of +her heart. Vassilissa didn't like the Nep-girl's calling her "dear." +But she didn't want to start a quarrel. Let her go to the devil!</p> + +<p>Night was falling. Bluish gray shadows covered the young fields. Over +the distant purplish-black strip of woods the sun hung like a red ball +of fire. The rooks had risen from the fields, and were circling in the +air. The wires were rising and falling between the telegraph poles.</p> + +<p>With the twilight an unaccountable anxiety and longing crept into +Vassilissa's heart. Not sadness, but longing. She had prepared for the +journey, settled her affairs. And suddenly everybody had been sorry to +see her leave. Perhaps she would never return.</p> + +<p>The Fedosseyev woman had come to her, had embraced her, had wept and +begged her pardon. It had been painful. In her inmost heart Vassilissa +was not angry with Fedosseyeva; but she had no respect for her, as she +was unable to respect others of her kind.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa's comrades had accompanied her to the station. The children +of the community house had brought paper flowers they had made +themselves. And Vassilissa realized that she had not given her strength +and energy in vain. The seed was sown; something would grow.</p> + +<p>When the train began to roll out, the tears rose to her eyes. They were +waving their caps. Suddenly she loved them all so much. It was hard to +leave them.</p> + +<p>But hardly had the city dropped behind her, hardly had the wooded +strips and suburban settlements begun to approach her and then hasten +away, as if they were running a race, than Vassilissa forgot her +community house, the joys and sorrows of the winter. Swifter than the +train, her thoughts rushed far ahead to him for whom she longed.</p> + +<p>Why was Vassilissa so melancholy now? Whence the longing that had crept +into her heart? It was as if a cold vise were gripping her heart. +What was she longing for? Perhaps it was because with the community +house a piece of her life had dropped into the past, never to return, +had disappeared like those narrow fields that shone like amber in the +spring sun.</p> + +<p>She began to cry. Softly, imperceptibly. She wiped away her tears, and +felt relieved, as if the cold little lump of yearning that had tortured +her heart had dissipated together with the tears on the skirt of her +new dress.</p> + +<p>The lights were turned on in the car, the shades pulled down. It +suddenly became cozy, and her loneliness disappeared.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa's heart, not her mind, knew very clearly: two more nights +and then she would see Volodya, would see him, embrace him. She felt +his burning lips and strong arms, heard his voice.</p> + +<p>A sweet languor throbbed through her body, her eyes were laughing. If +it hadn't been for the Nep-girl, who was fussing before the mirror, +Vassilissa would have sung with joy. Loudly, as the birds sing of +spring.</p> + +<p>The Nep-girl was gone, the door banged. Stupid woman! Closing her eyes, +Vassilissa thought of Vladimir, her lover. Dreaming, she read page +after page of the story of their love. They had been in love for five +years. She could hardly believe it—five years.</p> + +<p>She felt as if they had met only yesterday.</p> + +<p>She settled down more comfortably in the corner of her compartment, her +feet drawn up, her eyes closed. The gentle rocking of the car relaxed +her entire body. Her thoughts, however, hurried on and on.</p> + +<p>The voice of memory. What was it like? Their first meeting?</p> + +<p>It was at an assembly, shortly before the October days. A time +of restlessness. They were only a handful of Bolsheviki—but how +they worked! The Mensheviki were in power, and the noisy Social +Revolutionaries. The Bolsheviki were attacked from all sides, people +almost used physical violence against them, the "German spies," the +"traitors." Yet the group increased from day to day. They did not know +themselves exactly what was to be, but they knew one thing: there +must be peace come what may, and the "patriots," the "traitors," must +be thrown out of the Soviets. This was certain, and they fought. +Obstinately, ardently, uncompromisingly, full of faith. An unspoken +resolve shone in the eyes of all: We will die, but never compromise. No +one thought of himself. Did anyone consider the individual then?</p> + +<p>Remembering this time, Vassilissa saw not herself, but only the group. +The Social-Revolutionary and Menshevik papers had printed some items +about her—pure fiction, lies, slander. But let them revile her. It +couldn't be otherwise. Anyway, people didn't read everything in the +papers. They simply believed that justice was on the side of the Party, +of the Bolsheviki.</p> + +<p>"Have you no pity for your mother? You're disgracing the entire family! +Getting mixed up with the Bolsheviki! You're selling your country to +the enemy!" wept the old woman.</p> + +<p>Unwilling to listen to such reprimands at home, Vassilissa went to live +with another girl. She could not sympathize with her mother's tears. +Strangers seemed closer to her. Only one goal stood clearly before her: +the victory of Bolshevism. She seemed to be urged on by some force. It +was impossible to stop. Though this force might hurl her into an abyss +she would go on nonetheless, would struggle. She would fight....</p> + +<p>The controversy became more acute, the air more sultry. A storm was +inevitable. There was news from Petrograd. The resolutions of the +Congress. Trotzky's speeches. The proclamations of the Petrograd +Soviets.</p> + +<p>Then they met. The assembly was crowded, the hall was packed. People +were standing on the window sills, sitting on the floor in the aisles. +There was hardly room to breathe. What sort of meeting was it? +Vassilissa had forgotten. For the first time a Bolshevik was elected +chairman, and the committee, too, consisted of Bolsheviki and left-wing +Social Revolutionaries. Among them was an Anarchist, an Independent, +known in the city as "the American"—Vladimir.</p> + +<p>It was the first time she saw him. But she had heard much of him. Some +were delighted with him, and said: "He's a real man. He knows how to +make people listen to him." Others found fault with him. "A braggart." +But he had the union bakers and the commercial clerks behind him. +He had to be reckoned with. The Bolsheviki were glad when he scored +against the Mensheviki, and were angry when he said something against +them. What in the world did he want?</p> + +<p>The Party secretary couldn't endure him. "He's crazy, we're better off +without such friends." But Stephen Alexeyevitch, the most esteemed +Bolshevik of the city, laughed into his gray beard as he said: "Wait a +bit, be patient. He will yet become a splendid Bolshevik. He's anxious +to fight. Just wait until he's lost his American spleen."</p> + +<p>So Vassilissa had heard of him; but she paid no attention to him. So +many people would pop up without anyone's knowing the least thing about +them. It didn't pay to bother with them. She came late to the meeting, +all out of breath. She had been speaking at the "brick-yard." There +were meetings everywhere; it had to be so in those days.</p> + +<p>She was an orator then. People liked to listen to her. Her speaking +won general commendation because she was a woman, a working-girl. +Vassilissa spoke objectively, was neither wasteful nor sparing with +her words. She had mastered this manner of speaking, terse, but lucid. +She could hardly meet all the demands made on her.</p> + +<p>When she came to the meeting she went directly to the platform. It had +been announced that she would speak. Comrade Yurotchkin—he was dead +now, killed at the front—pulled her sleeve. "We've won! The Bolsheviki +won out in the election of the chairman. Two left-wing Social +Revolutionaries, and the American besides. He's almost a Bolshevik now. +He's going to speak in a minute."</p> + +<p>Vassilissa glanced at the American, and something about him surprised +her. So that is how an Anarchist looks! She would have thought him a +gentleman. He wore a stiff collar and a tie, and his hair was parted. A +handsome fellow. Long eye-lashes. His turn was just coming. He stepped +forward, cleared his throat, and held his hand before his mouth. Like a +gentleman, she thought, and could not help laughing.</p> + +<p>His voice was pleasant, engaging. He spoke for a long time, frequently +making his audience laugh. Vasya laughed, too. He was a smart fellow, +after all, the Anarchist. Vasya applauded. When he returned to the +speakers' table, he accidentally bumped against Vasya. When he turned +to apologize Vasya blushed. And, embarrassed at blushing, she colored +even more. It was annoying. But the Anarchist didn't notice it. He sat +down, leaned back carelessly in his chair, and smoked a cigarette.</p> + +<p>The chairman turned to him, pointed to the cigarette. "We're not +accustomed to smoking here." Shrugging his shoulders, Vladimir +continued to smoke. "I want to smoke, and I will. Your rules don't +apply to me." He took a few more whiffs, and, seeing that the chairman +was busy with something else, threw the cigarette away.</p> + +<p>Vasya had forgotten nothing of all this. Later she had teased Vladimir +about it. But at that time he had not yet noticed her. He became aware +of her only when she began to speak.</p> + +<p>She spoke very well that evening; and though he was behind her she felt +the American's eyes on her. She deliberately lauded the Bolsheviki +as opposed to the Mensheviki, the Social Revolutionaries, and the +Anarchists, although she didn't even know then what the Anarchists +were. She wanted to strike the American; he acted too much like a +gentleman.</p> + +<p>Vasya remembered how her hair came undone as she spoke. At that time +she had beautiful long hair, which she braided and wound about her +head. She was speaking with all her heart, passionately, and the pins +fell out of her hair. It was unpleasant, her hair was in her way, she +tossed it back. She didn't know that her hair had cast a spell over +Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see you while you were speaking. But when your hair fell over +your shoulders I saw clearly that you were no orator, but Vasya, my +tomboy! A woman! And such a funny one. She was embarrassed, but held +her ground. She waved her arms, and abused the Anarchists, then her +hair came undone, curly little snakes were coiled on her back like +threads of gold. Then, Vasyuk, I realized that I would have to know +you."</p> + +<p>Vladimir told her that later, after they had fallen in love. But she +didn't know it at the meeting. After her speech was finished she began +to braid her hair. Yurotchkin picked up the hair-pins for her.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Comrade."</p> + +<p>It was very embarrassing; everyone was staring at her. She was afraid +to look at the American. He had surely noticed, and had his own opinion +of her. Something or other annoyed her; she was angry at the American. +But why did she bother about him?</p> + +<p>The meeting was over. Everybody was going away. The American stood +before her.</p> + +<p>"May I introduce myself?" He told her his name and explained who he +was. He pressed her hand; praised her speech. And again Vasya flushed. +They began to talk, to argue. She was for the Bolsheviki, he in favor +of the Anarchists. Going with the crowd, they reached the street. It +was a rainy and windy night.</p> + +<p>A cab belonging to the Party was waiting. The American suggested that +he take Vasya home. She agreed, and they climbed into the cab. It was +dark in there, and the cab was narrow. They sat close together. The +horse shied, and splashed in the mud-puddles with its hoofs.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa and Vladimir stopped disputing, sat there quiet and silent. +Both grave and yet happy.</p> + +<p>They talked about trifles, about the rain, about the meeting that would +take place the next day in the soap works, about the assembly at Party +Headquarters. But their hearts were full of gladness.</p> + +<p>They were at Vasya's house, and bid each other good-night. Both were +sorry that they had to part so soon, but neither said so.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure your feet didn't get wet?" Vladimir asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"My feet?" Vasya was amazed, but happy about something. For the first +time in her life someone had thought of her, had been concerned about +her. And Vasya laughed, her regular white teeth shining. Vladimir would +have liked to take her into his arms then, to kiss those moist, white, +regular teeth.</p> + +<p>The door opened; the watchman let Vasya into the house.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye until tomorrow, at headquarters. Don't forget. The meeting +opens at two sharp. We do things in the American way."</p> + +<p>Vladimir raised his soft hat, and took his leave with a profound bow. +Vasya turned in the doorway as if she were expecting something more.</p> + +<p>The door banged, Vasya was alone in the dark little court. And suddenly +the happy mood was gone. Her heart was uneasy, sick with longing. +Something grieved her; something hurt her.</p> + +<p>She seemed so small to herself. So useless.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Vasya was sitting in the car, her head pillowed on her woolen shawl. +She was not sleeping, but she saw the past as in a dream, as in a +moving picture: reel after reel, scene after scene, joy and misery, all +her life with Vladimir, with Volodya. Beautiful memories. And as she +remembered them even her sorrows seemed pleasant. She settled down more +comfortably. The car rocked soothingly, luxuriously.</p> + +<p>In her mind's eye, Vassilissa saw the meeting of the union, a noisy, +shouting, restless assembly. The bakers were an obstreperous, +stiff-necked, unruly crowd. Vladimir was in the chair; he alone knew +how to manage them. It was difficult, but finally he succeeded. The +veins of his forehead were swollen with the effort, but he had carried +his point. He hadn't noticed Vasya's coming. She sat modestly beside +the wall, and watched.</p> + +<p>It was resolved to present the government with a vote of lack of +confidence, and to put the union in the hands of the workers. An +administrative committee of their own was elected immediately. +Shareholders, members of the municipal Duma, and <i>burshui</i> were struck +off the list, and their contributions cancelled. Thenceforth the union +would no longer be a municipal affair, but would belong only to the +bakers and the employees of the union.</p> + +<p>But the Mensheviki were not to be caught napping. They sent their +confidential agents to notify the proper parties.</p> + +<p>The assembly was beginning to disperse, only the administrative +committee was remaining for a meeting, when suddenly, to everybody's +consternation, there appeared in the doorway the Menshevik Commissar, +the highest authority in the city, a follower of Kerensky. Behind him +the leaders of the Mensheviki and the Social Revolutionaries. When +Vladimir saw them his eyes twinkled craftily.</p> + +<p>"Comrades, the meeting is adjourned. Only the administrative committee +of the Revolutionary Bakers' Union will remain for a session. Tomorrow +there will be a general meeting to discuss current affairs. Now, +everybody go home!"</p> + +<p>Vladimir's voice resounded, calm and resolute. The audience rose +noisily.</p> + +<p>"Stop, Comrades, stop!" came the irate voice of the Commissar. "I beg +you not to adjourn the meeting."</p> + +<p>"The Commissar is too late. The meeting has already been adjourned. +But if you wish to acquaint yourself with our resolutions, you are +welcome to them. Here they are. We had intended to send a delegation +to you. But now you have come in person. So much the better. This is +as it should be in times of revolution. It's high time for the people +to learn that it is not the duty of the organizations to run to the +government officials with their reports, but that the officials must +come to the workers' organizations for their news."</p> + +<p>Vladimir stood there unmoved, gathered up his papers, and in his eyes, +under the long lashes, the little devils were laughing and dancing.</p> + +<p>"He's right! He's right!" cried the crowd. Many laughed. The Commissar +attempted to protest. He went up to Vladimir, became excited, and +shouted. Vladimir remained entirely calm, only his eyes laughed; his +voice was loud and clear. His answer to the Commissar was audible +throughout the hall. The public laughed and applauded. They were +delighted to hear Vladimir invite the Commissar to a supper where +the passage of the union from the <i>burshuis</i> to the bakers would be +celebrated.</p> + +<p>"A smart fellow, this American. He has a tongue in his head."</p> + +<p>The Commissar had to leave without accomplishing his purpose. He +threatened to use force.</p> + +<p>"Just you try it," cried Vladimir, his eyes flashing. And the entire +hall repeated. "Just you try it! Try it!" The atmosphere became +threatening. The Commissar and his Mensheviki beat a hasty retreat +through a side door.</p> + +<p>But the tumult in the hall continued. The administrative session +was postponed for the evening. People had to eat first. They were +exhausted, for the meeting had been going on since morning.</p> + +<p>Vasya went toward the door, with the crowd.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Vladimir stood before her. Calm, his eyes laughing. How +different he seemed from the others in his neat blue suit. But now she +no longer saw him as a "gentleman." Today she had felt: "He belongs to +us." After all, how did he differ from a Bolshevik? And he was brave, +afraid of nothing. He would face bullets if necessary, in spite of his +stiff collar. Suddenly there rose in Vasya not merely the thought, but +the desire to lay her hand trustingly into Vladimir's strong hand. +She would like to go through life with him, side by side, happily and +confidently. But what was she to a man like Vladimir? Comparing herself +to him, Vasya sighed. He was handsome, had seen much, had been in +America.</p> + +<p>And she? Not much to look at, ignorant; and she had never been outside +her province. How could he pay any attention to her! He hadn't noticed +her today either.</p> + +<p>However, Vasya had hardly formulated these thoughts when she heard +Vladimir's voice beside her: "Delighted to see you, Comrade Vassilissa. +Didn't we put that Commissar's nose out of joint, though? He won't try +these tricks again. He'll never come back here. You can bank on that. +Besides, we tell him of our resolutions merely as a matter of form."</p> + +<p>Vladimir was excited, enthusiastic. Vasya caught his spirit. They began +to talk, both laughed and were happy.</p> + +<p>If his comrades hadn't come for Vladimir they would have stayed much +longer in the ante-room, talking of the Commissar and the resolutions.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must go now, I can't stay any longer, Comrade Vassilissa." +Vasya heard regret in his voice. Her heart beat joyfully; she raised +her tenderly observant eyes to his. Vasya's soul was mirrored in her +eyes.</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked into them. Silently, as though he were lost in them.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you come, Comrade Vladimir? Don't keep the people waiting. +We're up to our ears in work."</p> + +<p>"I'm coming."</p> + +<p>Hastily he pressed her hand, and left.</p> + +<p>Vasya wandered through the city, not knowing where she was going, +seeing neither streets nor people, only Vladimir.</p> + +<p>This was something new for her.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A clear, frosty winter's night. Stars, countless stars, twinkling in +the sky. The freshly fallen snow still white and spotless. It covered +the streets, had settled down on the roofs and barns, had bespangled +the trees with its loose flakes.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa and Vladimir were coming from a meeting. The "October Days" +had come and gone. Now the power was in the hands of the Soviets. +The Mensheviki and the right-wing Social Revolutionaries had been +dislodged. Only the "internationalists" remained. The power of the +Bolsheviki was growing. The Party ruled over all. All the workers +were for the Bolsheviki. Only the <i>burshuis</i>, the popes and the army +officers opposed them. The Soviet was waging a campaign against them. +Life had not yet taken its proper course, the waves of the Revolution +had not yet calmed down. The streets were patrolled by Red Guards; +there were occasional clashes. But the worst seemed over.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa and Vladimir were talking of the days when they had seized +the power. Vladimir's bakers had stood in the gap then. Fine, resolute +fellows. Vladimir was proud of them. And they had put him in the Soviet.</p> + +<p>Vladimir and Vassilissa were walking side by side, through the quiet +streets. The Red Guard patrols demanded the password. Vladimir, too, +had a narrow red band on his sleeve. He was wearing a fur cap; he had +enlisted in the Workers' Guard, and had been under fire. A bullet had +passed through one of his cuffs; he showed it to Vasya. Though they had +seen each other a good deal during this time, they had never had a +chance to talk. There was no time for that.</p> + +<p>That day, however, they had gone out together, without any previous +arrangement. They had so much to tell each other; they felt as if they +were old friends meeting again to talk things over. Yet, suddenly, both +were silent. They felt closer to each other. They had gone past Vasya's +house without noticing it; they had reached the end of the suburb, +where the truck gardens began. Where in the world had they landed! +Stopping, they laughed in amazement. They looked up to the sky, where +the stars were twinkling and sparkling.</p> + +<p>"We had no clocks in our village, so we had to tell time by the stars. +My father knew them particularly well. He could always tell exactly +what time it was."</p> + +<p>Vladimir spoke of his childhood. They had been a large family in a poor +peasant's household. There was too little of everything. Volodya wanted +to go to school, but it was too far away. So he made a bargain with the +pope's daughter. He watched her geese, and she taught him to read.</p> + +<p>Vladimir recalled his village, the fields and woods of his home. He +grew tender and melancholy.</p> + +<p>"So that is what he's like." Vassilissa was surprised.</p> + +<p>And he became even dearer to her.</p> + +<p>He told her about America, how he had come there as a boy, having +resolved to make his own way in the world. After spending two years +on board a transport, he had worked in the dockyards. Finally he was +driven away, forced to go to another state. He was starving, took +any work he could get. For a time he was a waiter in a great palatial +hotel. How many rich people he did see there! And as for the women! All +dressed up in silks, and laces and diamonds.</p> + +<p>Then he was a porter in a large fashionable store, where he was well +paid. He wore a gallooned uniform; and he was liked because of his good +figure. But he soon became sick of it. All these wealthy customers +got on his nerves. He tried being a chauffeur, traveled through +America with a rich cotton dealer, covered hundreds of miles in an +elegant auto. However, this too became tiresome. After all, he was +little better than a serf. The merchant introduced him into the cotton +business, where he became a salesman, and learned bookkeeping.</p> + +<p>And then—the Revolution. Dropping everything, he hurried back to +Russia. He had belonged to the organization even in America. He had +been arrested once after a clash with the police. But the cotton +merchant had come to his aid, for he liked him as a chauffeur, and held +him in esteem although he knew him to be an Anarchist. He always shook +hands with him, too. America was different from Russia!</p> + +<p>Vladimir loved America in his way.</p> + +<p>On and on they went, through the streets. Vasya listened; Vladimir's +flow of words was inexhaustible. He seemed to be confessing his entire +life to her. Again they reached the door of Vasya's house.</p> + +<p>"Won't you invite me in for a glass of tea, Comrade Vassilissa?" asked +Vladimir. "I'm parched with thirst. And I really don't want to sleep +yet."</p> + +<p>Vasya was doubtful. Her friend surely was in bed by this time.</p> + +<p>"That doesn't make any difference. We'll wake her up. The three of us +will have a real party."</p> + +<p>And why shouldn't she ask the American to come in? She didn't want him +to go away, for they had become friends.</p> + +<p>They went in, put up the samovar, Vladimir helping.</p> + +<p>"One must always help the ladies. That's what we do in America."</p> + +<p>They lingered over their tea, joking, teasing Vasya's friend, whom they +had pulled out of bed, because she blinked her eyes so sleepily.</p> + +<p>And again Vladimir talked about America, about the beautiful +silk-stockinged ladies who came up in their autos to the great store +before which he stood in his gallooned doorman's uniform, with a +feather in his three-cornered hat. One of them had slipped him a note, +fixing a rendezvous. But he didn't go. He didn't care for women. They +could only cause trouble. Another had given him a rose....</p> + +<p>Listening to Vladimir's stories of the beautiful American women with +their silk stockings, Vasya felt more and more insignificant and +unattractive.</p> + +<p>The joy in her heart died, and the world seemed dark.</p> + +<p>"And I suppose you fell in love with these beauties?"</p> + +<p>Vasya's voice sounded hollow. She was chagrined at having let the +question slip out.</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked at her attentively and tenderly. He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"All my life, Vassilissa Dementyevna, I have guarded my heart and my +love. I am keeping them for a pure girl. But these fine ladies? They're +much too fast, all of them. Worse than prostitutes."</p> + +<p>And again joy flooded her heart, only to ebb again without filling +it. He was keeping his heart for a pure girl? But Vasya was no longer +undefiled. She had had an affair with Petya Razgulov, of the machine +department, until he went to the front. Then there had been the Party +organizer; she had said she was engaged to him. He, too, had gone away, +had stopped writing. And she forgot him. But what to do now? Only a +"pure girl"?</p> + +<p>Vasya was looking at Vladimir, was listening to his voice, but she did +not hear what he was saying. Her heart was aching so. Vladimir thought +she was bored with his stories.</p> + +<p>He stopped talking, and rose. Hastily, coldly he took his leave.</p> + +<p>Vasya struggled against her tears. She wanted so to throw herself into +his arms. But he didn't need her! He had seen so many beautiful women. +And he was keeping his heart for a "pure girl."</p> + +<p>Vasya cried all night. She determined to avoid this American. What +could she mean to him?</p> + +<p>Vasya had firmly made up her mind to keep out of the American's way, +but Fate had decided to bring them even closer.</p> + +<p>Coming to a Committee meeting one day, Vassilissa found a violent +dispute in progress. A new City Commandant was to be appointed. Some +proposed Vladimir, others refused to consider him. The Secretary of the +Partcom was especially antagonistic. It was not to be thought of. The +entire city was up in arms against the American. His <i>papacha</i> pushed +to the back of his head, he rode about the town in the union cab, as +though he were a governor. He irritated the people; he recognized no +discipline. Fresh complaints had come in about him. He didn't follow +union regulations.</p> + +<p>Vasya defended Vladimir. It hurt her to hear him spoken of in that way, +to hear him called an Anarchist. Stupid, this suspicion. Didn't he do +better work than the Bolsheviki? Stepan Alexeyevitch also was in favor +of Vladimir. The vote was cast.</p> + +<p>Seven against Vladimir, six for him. Well, there was nothing to be +done. After all, Vladimir was a bit to blame too. He tried to show off +too much.</p> + +<p>But Vladimir was angry. Why didn't they trust him? Wasn't he with +the Revolution with all his heart and soul? When he learned of the +Committee's vote he became furious. He deliberately began to insult the +Bolsheviki.</p> + +<p>"Partisans of the state! Centralists! They want to institute another +police régime!"</p> + +<p>He spoke of America, mentioned his I. W. W. wherever he could. The +Committee grew excited, and demanded that Vladimir comply with the +regulations. The breach widened from day to day. Vasya worked hard in +Vladimir's defense, disputed till she was hoarse.</p> + +<p>The matter was brought before the Soviet. The union had again failed to +follow orders.</p> + +<p>Vladimir, however, repeated over and over: "I don't recognize your +police ordinances. Every institution is its own master. Discipline? I +don't give a damn for your discipline. We didn't make the Revolution, +shed blood, drive out the <i>burshuis</i> to let ourselves be chained again. +Why do we need Commandants? We can command ourselves!"</p> + +<p>Wrangling, shouting.</p> + +<p>"If you refuse to submit we will expel you from the Soviet," threatened +the presiding officer.</p> + +<p>"Just you try it!" yelled Vladimir, his eyes flaming. "I'll recall all +my bakers' boys from the militia. Who'll defend you then? Soon you'll +be in the hands of the <i>burshuis</i> again. And that's where your Soviet's +heading! It's no Soviet—it's a police district!"</p> + +<p>Vassilissa's heart missed a beat. Why had he said that? Now all of +them would pounce upon him. She was right. The meeting stormed with +indignation. What? He had called the Soviets names? Vladimir stood +there, white-faced, defending himself. But there was a tempest round +about him. People were pushing forward.</p> + +<p>"Expel him. Arrest him. Throw him out. The blackguard!"</p> + +<p>Thanks, Stepan Alexeyevitch. He helped him. He asked Vladimir to go +into the next room. The Soviet would discuss the incident in his +absence.</p> + +<p>Vladimir went, and Vasya followed. She felt mortified. It had been so +stupid of him. And she was angry at the Soviets, too. How could they +condemn a man for his words? They should judge by his deeds. Everybody +knew that Vladimir was on the side of the Soviet. If not for him the +Bolsheviki might not have come out ahead in the October Revolution. It +was he who had disarmed the officers. It was he who had forced the head +of the city to flee, who had led the most obstinate of his opponents +out into the street. There, shovel the snow! Why was he to be expelled +from the Soviet? Because of a hasty word?</p> + +<p>Greatly perturbed, Vasya went into the back room. Vladimir was sitting +at the table, brooding, leaning his head on his hand.</p> + +<p>As he looked up at her she saw pain, chagrin and distress in his eyes. +Suddenly he seemed small and helpless as a child.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa's heart filled with compassion. She would do anything to +spare him suffering.</p> + +<p>"Well, are the 'partisans of the state' alarmed?" Vladimir asked +pretentiously. "Did I frighten them with my threats? Things have not +yet reached such a pass...." He stopped short.</p> + +<p>Vasya looked at him affectionately. There was reproach in her gaze.</p> + +<p>"You are in the wrong, Vladimir Ivanovitch. You're harming yourself. +Why did you say that? Now it looks as though you were against the +Soviet."</p> + +<p>"And I will be against it, if the Soviet is to be another police +department." Vladimir still was stubborn.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say something you don't believe yourself?" Vasya came very +close to him, looked at him like a mother, gravely, tenderly. Raising +his eyes to hers, Vladimir was silent.</p> + +<p>"Admit that you lost your temper."</p> + +<p>Vladimir bowed his head.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't keep it back. I was furious."</p> + +<p>And again he looked into Vasya's eyes, like a boy confessing a fault to +his mother.</p> + +<p>"Nothing to be done about it now. It's all over."</p> + +<p>He motioned her away. But Vasya came even closer to him. Her heart was +full of sorrow and tenderness. He had become so dear to her. She laid +her hand on his head, stroked it.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Vladimir Ivanovitch! Why do you lose heart? Aren't you an +Anarchist? That's not the way, Vladimir! You must believe in yourself, +mustn't let others bother you."</p> + +<p>Vasya was bending over Vladimir, stroking his head as if he were a +little boy. And he leaned his head trustingly on her heart, as though +he sought support in her. So big, and yet as woebegone as a child.</p> + +<p>"I'm having such a hard time. I thought the Revolution, the +Comrades—everything would change."</p> + +<p>"And it will. But you must try doing things in a friendly, brotherly +way."</p> + +<p>"No; good will won't help now. I don't know how to deal with people."</p> + +<p>"You'll learn. I'm sure you will."</p> + +<p>Vasya raised Vladimir's head and looked in his eyes. His gaze, however, +was anxious and troubled. Bending down, Vasya gently kissed his hair.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to straighten out this matter. You'll have to apologize, +say that you were hasty, that they misunderstood you."</p> + +<p>"All right," Vladimir agreed obediently, seeking support in her eyes. +Suddenly he threw his arms about her, crushed her to his heart until it +hurt. And his burning lips clung to Vasya's mouth.</p> + +<p>Vasya ran back to the platform, to the executive committee, directly to +Stepan Alexeyevitch. Matters stood thus and thus. Vladimir Ivanovitch +had to be helped out of the mess.</p> + +<p>The incident was closed.</p> + +<p>But the hostile attitude against Vladimir did not disappear. The Soviet +was divided into two camps. The happy days of peace were over.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya didn't want to remember more. But her thoughts flew on. There was +no stopping them.</p> + +<p>How had they come together? It was soon after the episode in the Soviet.</p> + +<p>Vladimir was escorting her home. They always left together in those +days. They were seeking each other. When they were alone their +conversation was tenderly intimate.</p> + +<p>Vasya's friend was out. And Vladimir, taking Vasya into his arms, +kissed her ardently, passionately. She still remembered those kisses. +But she released herself, stepped back, and looked him straight in the +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Volodya, you mustn't kiss me. I won't stand for any deception."</p> + +<p>Amazed, he failed to understand.</p> + +<p>"Deception? Do you think I want to deceive you? Can't you see that I've +loved you ever since I've known you?"</p> + +<p>"That's not it! That's not it, Volodya! Of course, I believe you. But, +you see, I ... I ... No, don't kiss me. You're keeping your heart for a +'pure girl.' And I'm not a virgin any more, Volodya. I've had lovers."</p> + +<p>As she spoke she thought, trembling: Now, my happiness is shattered.</p> + +<p>Vladimir interrupted her. "What do I care for your lovers? You belong +to me. No one can be purer than you, Vasya; your soul is pure."</p> + +<p>Passionately, he pressed her to him.</p> + +<p>"You love me, Vasya, don't you? Don't you love me? Don't you belong +to me? To me? And to no one else. And look here—don't you ever again +mention your lovers. Don't tell me anything. I don't want to know +anything. I don't want to. You belong to me, and that's the end of it."</p> + +<p>This was the beginning of their union.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="MENAGE">MENAGE</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The compartment was dark. The Nep-girl had gone to bed, after perfuming +the entire car with Eau de Cologne. Vassilissa was lying quietly in +her upper berth. If only she could fall asleep. But memories of the +past insisted upon coming up. As if she were settling her accounts. But +why settle them? All her life was still before her. Love and happiness +awaited her. Yet somewhere, in an obscure corner of her heart, Vasya +felt that things weren't as they used to be. The happiness of four +years ago was gone. Their love had changed, and Vassilissa, too, was +different.</p> + +<p>Why? Whose fault was it?</p> + +<p>Her hands folded beneath her head, Vassilissa lay there, thinking. +In all these years she had never had time to think. She had lived +and worked. But now she had a feeling of having forgotten or +neglected something. Why? Dissension within the Party; trouble in the +institutions.</p> + +<p>Everything had been different then. Volodya, too, had been different. +True, she had had her hands full with him. He would fall out with the +authorities. But Vasya always was able to reason with him. He trusted +her, and always followed her advice.</p> + +<p>The Whites commenced their offensive; the city was in danger. Vladimir +decided to enlist for the front. And Vasya did not hold him back. +She only tried to persuade him to join the Party before he left. He +resisted at first. But finally gave in.</p> + +<p>Thus he became a Bolshevik, and went away.</p> + +<p>They corresponded very little. Now and then he would come back for a +day or two. And then more weeks and months of separation. As if it had +to be so. They didn't even miss each other very much—there was no time +for such things. Then Vasya learned, at a Committee meeting, that a +charge was being pressed against Vladimir. What could that mean? He was +working for the artillery, and they said he wasn't managing his affairs +properly, that he wasn't entirely straight and aboveboard.</p> + +<p>Vasya flared up. That wasn't true. She didn't believe it. It was a +conspiracy, or slanderous gossip.</p> + +<p>She rushed out to find out more. It seemed a serious affair. The case +had not yet been brought into court, but he had been removed from his +post. She begged Stepan Alexeyevitch to bring about her transfer to a +transport train bearing gifts to the front. And in three days she was +on her way.</p> + +<p>It was very hard to get through. Delays everywhere. The trains +missed one another. There was something wrong with the papers. The +gift-bearing car wasn't coupled on. She was exhausted and worried. The +case might already have come to court.</p> + +<p>Only then did Vasya realize how she loved Vladimir, how much he meant +to her. And she trusted him, as much as it was possible to trust +anyone. The more others suspected him, for they felt that an Anarchist +was capable of anything, the more vigorously she defended him. No one +knew his heart as well as she, Vasya. And his heart was tender as a +woman's. His harshness and obstinacy were only on the surface. Vasya +knew that kindness and gentleness could always lead him on the right +path.</p> + +<p>But it was true that he had become embittered. The life of the +proletarians was hard.</p> + +<p>Finally Vassilissa reached headquarters, where, after much difficulty, +she learned where Vladimir lived. She was forced to walk all the way +across the town, in a pouring rain. It was a good thing that a Comrade +went with her. She was tired, shivering with the cold. But she was +glad, for now she knew that the investigation was not yet over. There +was no evidence; opinions varied within the army itself. Rumors and +denunciations were current. Vasya was confused only by the disagreeable +smile with which people looked at her, by their air of hiding something +when she openly called herself his wife. She had to try to understand +everything. And then she would have to go to Comrade Toporkoff, of the +Central Administration. He knew Vladimir and his work. This prosecution +would have to stop. Why did they harass him? Others, too, had once been +Mensheviki or Social Revolutionaries, but no one hounded them. Why was +an Anarchist worse than they?</p> + +<p>They reached the little wooden house where Vladimir lived. The windows +were lighted, but the door was locked. The Comrade knocked. No answer. +Vasya's feet were soaked to the ankle; her clothes were wet, and she +was cold. She was thinking not of the joy of seeing Vladimir again, but +only of getting into the warm room as soon as possible to change her +dress and stockings. She had been sitting in the heated baggage car for +five days, had had practically no sleep.</p> + +<p>"Let's knock on the window," suggested the Comrade.</p> + +<p>He broke off a birch rod, tapped on the window with it.</p> + +<p>Someone pulled back the curtain, and Vasya saw Volodya's head. He +seemed to be wearing only a shirt. As he strained his eyes to see in +the dark, a woman's head bobbed up from behind his shoulder, only to +disappear again.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt her heart sinking. A sharp, sickening pain.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you open the door, Comrade? I've brought you your wife."</p> + +<p>The curtain was drawn, hiding Volodya and the woman. Vasya and her +companion mounted the steps leading to the door. They waited. Why did +it take so long? To Vasya the time seemed endless.</p> + +<p>At last the door opened. Vladimir took Vasya in his arms, pressing her +to him and kissing her. His face was radiant, his eyes wet with tears.</p> + +<p>"You came! You came to me! My friend, Vasya! My comrade!"</p> + +<p>"Take her things, at least," grumbled her escort. "What'll I do with +them?"</p> + +<p>"Come right into the house! We'll have some supper. You must be soaked +through and freezing."</p> + +<p>They entered the house. It was bright and clean. A dining room, with a +bedroom behind it. At the dining room table sat a nurse with a white +kerchief about her neck and a red badge on her sleeve. She was pretty. +Vasya felt another stab at her heart. Volodya introduced the two.</p> + +<p>"This is Sister Barbara. My wife, Vassilissa Dementyevna."</p> + +<p>They shook hands and looked at each other searchingly, as if each +wanted to sound the other.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Vasya? Take off your wraps. Aren't you the lady of +this house? See how well I live here. Better than in your little room. +Let me have your coat. How wet it is. We must hang it up next to the +stove."</p> + +<p>The nurse had remained standing.</p> + +<p>"Well, Vladimir Ivanovitch, we'll let our business discussions go until +tomorrow. I don't want to disturb your domestic bliss tonight."</p> + +<p>She shook hands with Vasya and Vladimir, and went out together with +Vasya's escort.</p> + +<p>Vladimir picked up Vasya and carried her about the room. He fondled +her, kissed her, was beside himself with joy.</p> + +<p>Vasya's heart felt less heavy, and she was ashamed of herself. Still +she asked, casually, between kisses: "Who was that nurse?" And she bent +back her head the better to look into Vladimir's eyes.</p> + +<p>"The nurse? She came to see me about the provisioning of the hospital. +Deliveries must be made more quickly. There are delays along the line. +They can't get along without me, though they made me stop my work. As +soon as something goes wrong, they come to me."</p> + +<p>He turned the conversation to the charges against him, spoke of the +thing that worried them both. He set Vasya down, and they went into the +bedroom. Once more Vasya felt that stab. The bed was untidily made, as +if someone had hurriedly thrown the covers over it.</p> + +<p>She glanced at Vladimir. Placing his hands on his back, a gesture Vasya +knew and loved, he paced up and down the room. He told her of his case, +what had happened, how it had begun.</p> + +<p>Listening, Vasya suffered for him. She felt clearly that it was all +envious gossip. Her Volodya's hands were clean. She was convinced of +that; it could not be otherwise.</p> + +<p>She took a pair of stockings from her suit-case. But she had no other +shoes. What to do?</p> + +<p>Vladimir noticed it.</p> + +<p>"That's how you are! You haven't even an extra pair of shoes. Of course +I can get some leather, and our cobbler will make a pair for you, as a +special favor. But now let me take off your shoes. How wet they are."</p> + +<p>He drew off her shoes, threw Vasya's wet stockings on the floor, took +her cold feet into his warm hands.</p> + +<p>"What tiny feet you have. Like a doll. Oh, Vasyuk mine, my darling." +Bending down, he kissed her feet.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Volodyka? You silly boy." She laughed; her heart +was joyful again.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>They drank tea, talked and held council. Vladimir told her everything. +How he had been rude at the wrong time, how he had disregarded +instructions and had done things his own way. He couldn't stand orders. +He told her of the times when he had furthered the cause, and of the +"undesirables" he had employed. But as for being light-fingered, Vasya +surely could not believe that of him. Vladimir stood before her, +choking with rage.</p> + +<p>"So you, too, could think that of me? You, Vasya?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Volodya. I was only afraid that your accounts might be a bit +muddled. They're so strict nowadays."</p> + +<p>"You needn't worry about my accounts. Those who started this business +will find their finish in it. My accounts are clear as crystal. The +bookkeeping I learned in America has come in handy."</p> + +<p>Vassilissa felt a load off her heart. All that was necessary now was to +meet the Comrades, consult with them, and explain the how, when, and +where.</p> + +<p>"It was so clever of you to come here," said Vladimir. "I didn't dare +expect you. I know how hard you work, and assumed you'd be too busy for +your husband, for your Volodyka."</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know that I have no peace when you're not with me? +I'm always worrying: what's he doing? How does he feel? Has anything +happened to him?"</p> + +<p>"You're my guardian angel, Vasya. I know that." He spoke very gravely, +and kissed Vasya. His eyes became sad and thoughtful. "I'm not worthy +of you, Vasya. I love only you. I love you above all things. You +believe me, don't you? I love you, love you. No one but you. Anything +else is absurd...."</p> + +<p>Here Vasya didn't understand him. His unusual vehemence, his agitation +puzzled her.</p> + +<p>They went into the bedroom. It was time to go to sleep. Intending to +make the bed, Vasya threw back the covers. What was that? Her temples +pounded, her knees trembled. A woman's bandage—a blood-stain on the +sheet.</p> + +<p>"Volodya! What's that?" Her voice faltered. She moaned.</p> + +<p>Vladimir rushed to the bed, savagely threw the bandage to the floor.</p> + +<p>"That hussy, that landlady of mine. She lay down here again when I was +out. Soiled the bed." He threw the sheets on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Vladimir."</p> + +<p>Wide-eyed, Vasya stood before him. Her look said everything.</p> + +<p>Vladimir gazed at her and remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Why that, Volodya? Why?"</p> + +<p>Wringing his hands, Volodya threw himself on the bed.</p> + +<p>"It's all over. It's all over. But I swear to you, Vasya, I love only +you, only you."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do it? Why didn't you think of our love?"</p> + +<p>"I'm young, Vasya. All alone for months. And they're forever running +after you, these common hussies. I hate them all. All of them. These +filthy women."</p> + +<p>He stretched out his arms toward her. Tears were rolling down his +cheeks, large, burning tears.</p> + +<p>"You must understand, Vasya. You must. Or I can't live. You must pity +me. Life is so hard."</p> + +<p>Vasya bent down and kissed his head, as in the Soviet, long before. And +again she pitied him, again she was filled with compassion for this +big, helpless, childlike man. Who would understand him if not she? +Even now everyone was ready to throw stones at him. Should she really +drop him because he had hurt her? Had she not once been ready to bear +the brunt of every blow destined for him? A poor thing, her love, if +she would leave him the first time he had made her suffer.</p> + +<p>Bending over Vladimir, Vasya silently stroked his hair, seeking a way +out.</p> + +<p>Someone knocked at the door, a harsh, commanding knock. What was that?</p> + +<p>They exchanged a glance, and both understood. A hurried embrace, a +passionate kiss, and they went into the hall. They had guessed right.</p> + +<p>The investigation had been closed, and Vladimir was arrested. The +ground seemed to be trembling beneath Vasya's feet.</p> + +<p>Vladimir remained calm. He collected his things, told Vasya where +to find his papers, whom to summon as witnesses, who could give her +information. Then they took him away.</p> + +<p>That was years ago, but Vasya would never forget that night. She had +never lived through anything more dreadful than that night.</p> + +<p>Her heart was racked with twofold pain. The century-old, insurmountable +suffering of woman, and the distress of the friend, the comrade, at the +wrong done her beloved, at the malevolence of men, at the injustice of +the world.</p> + +<p>Vasya walked about the bedroom as though she were mad. She could not +rest.</p> + +<p>Here, before she came, in this room, on this bed Vladimir had loved, +kissed, embraced the other woman. That pretty woman with the full lips +and the voluptuous bosom. Might he not love her? Might he not have lied +to Vassilissa, out of pity?</p> + +<p>She wanted the truth, the truth only. Why had they taken away +Vladimir just then? If only he had been there she would have found +out everything, would have asked him. If only he had been there, she +would have freed herself of her own agonizing thoughts, would have been +consumed with pity for him.</p> + +<p>Her woman's heart was aching. And she grew furious at Vladimir. How had +he dared do such a thing? He would never have taken another woman if he +had loved her. And if he didn't love her, he should have told her so +frankly, instead of torturing her with his lies.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa paced from one corner to the other. She could not rest.</p> + +<p>And suddenly a new thought pierced her heart. Suppose the charges +against Vladimir really were to be taken seriously? Suppose there +really was a reason for his arrest? Suppose the "undesirables," the +scoundrels, had got him into trouble, leaving the entire responsibility +on his shoulders?</p> + +<p>Her heartache was forgotten, forgotten the red-lipped nurse. Now +she was only trembling with an agonizing fear for Vladimir, racked +and crushed by her suffering for him. They had robbed him of his +reputation, had ruthlessly arrested him. Those were his Comrades.</p> + +<p>Compared to that, what was her feminine grief? What had they done to +her beloved Vladimir—his own Comrades? She felt hurt not at his having +been with the woman, but at the failure of even the Revolution to bring +an era of truth and justice.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa forgot her weariness as if her body had disappeared. Only +her soul remained, her heart, torn by the sharp claws of her harrowing +thoughts. She waited for the morning, and with the morning came the +resolve to fight for Vladimir. They should not touch him. She would +liberate him from those envy-filled schemers. Single-handed she would +convince everyone that he was stainless. Their slanders were false, +false their libelous attacks on his good name.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Early that morning a Red Guard brought her a note from Volodya.</p> + +<p>"Vasya, my wife, my beloved comrade. I don't care about the case +against me now. Let them ruin me. Only one thought torments me, maddens +me—that I might lose you. I can't live without you, Vasya. You must +know that. If you no longer love me, make no efforts in my behalf. Let +them shoot me. Yours, only yours——Volodya."</p> + +<p>And on the side, diagonally, "I love only you. Whether you believe me +or not. And I will insist on it until I die."</p> + +<p>Another sentence, in a corner, "I've never reproached you with your +past. Try to understand and forgive me now. Yours, with all my heart +and soul."</p> + +<p>Vasya read the note over and over, and felt happier. He was right. He +had never reproached her that she had not been a virgin.</p> + +<p>After all, men were like that. What could he do when that hussy threw +herself on his neck? Act like a monk?</p> + +<p>She read the note again, kissed it, folded it carefully, and put it in +her pocket. And now to get busy, to get Volodya out of trouble.</p> + +<p>She wore herself out, rushing from pillar to post, growing excited, +running afoul of bureaucracy and the indifference of men, giving up, +losing all hope. Then, summoning all her strength, she began to fight +with renewed courage. She would not permit the triumph of the wrong, +she would not let those scheming slanderers worst Volodya.</p> + +<p>She gained her most important point. Comrade Toporkov took the matter +in his own hands. And after looking into it he made the following +decision: "As the charges are groundless, the case is to be dropped. +Zviridov and Malitchenko are to be arrested."</p> + +<p>The next morning Vasya could not leave her bed. She had contracted +typhus. In the evening she recognized no one, not even Volodya, when he +returned.</p> + +<p>In her memory Vasya's illness seemed a dull dream. It was night when +she regained consciousness. She looked about. An unfamiliar room, +medicine bottles on the table, a nurse with a white neckerchief sitting +beside her bed. Wiry, no longer young, a severe expression on her face. +As Vasya looked at her, it bothered her to see a nurse sitting there. +The white kerchief irritated her. Why? She hardly knew herself.</p> + +<p>"Would you like a drink?" Leaning forward, the nurse held a glass to +her lips.</p> + +<p>Vasya drank, and lost consciousness again. Vaguely, as in a dream, she +felt Volodya bending over her and adjusting her pillow. She became +entirely unconscious. She had a dream; perhaps it was real? There were +two shadows in the room; no, not shadows—women, but not real women. +One white, one gray. Turning, twisting, their arms entwining. Not a +dance, but a struggle. And now Vasya understood. Life and Death had +come to her, were fighting for her. Which would win?</p> + +<p>Vasya was frightened, so frightened that she wanted to scream. But she +could not utter a sound. This frightened her even more. Her heart beat, +pounded, as though it would burst any moment. Ping. Ping. Ping. There +was shooting on the street.</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes. In the feeble light of the night-lamp she saw that +she was alone. It was night. She listened. A scratching—mice—as if +they were rolling something under the floor. Ever nearer, ever closer. +And now Vasya was torn by a new fear. She felt that the mice were +trying to get on her bed, on her. And she would not be able to drive +them away.</p> + +<p>Beginning to cry, she called feebly: "Volodya. Volodya. Volodya."</p> + +<p>"Vasya darling. My little sweetheart. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Volodya was bending over her, anxiously peering into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Volodya, are you alive? Really?" Her strengthless hand felt about +Volodya's head.</p> + +<p>"I'm alive. We're both alive, my dearest. Why are you crying? What's +the matter with my Vasyuk? Were you dreaming? Are you delirious again?"</p> + +<p>Tenderly he kissed her hands and stroked her damp short hair.</p> + +<p>"No, no, I wasn't dreaming. The mice were scratching so...." she +defended herself, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>"The mice?" Volodya laughed. "My Vasyuk has become so brave that it's +afraid of mice! I told the nurse that you shouldn't be left alone. It's +a good thing I came home just now."</p> + +<p>Vasya would have liked to ask him where he had been. But she was so +weak that she couldn't talk. A delicious weakness, however, a sort of +drowsiness. And the nicest part of it all was his sitting beside her. +She held his hand in her feeble grasp, would not let go.</p> + +<p>Her smiling lips whispered: "He's alive."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I'm alive," laughed Vladimir. Gently he kissed her forehead.</p> + +<p>Vasya opened her eyes. "But what happened to my hair? Did they cut it +off?"</p> + +<p>"That's nothing. Don't worry about that. Now you're a real boy, a real +Vasyuk."</p> + +<p>Vasya smiled. She was happy.</p> + +<p>Volodya did not leave her. As she dozed he sat on the chair beside her +and watched over her sleep.</p> + +<p>"Sleep, Vasya, sleep. You musn't look at me with your big eyes. You'll +have plenty of time to look at me when you're well again. If you don't +sleep now you'll be sick again, and the doctor'll scold me. He'll tell +me I'm a poor nurse."</p> + +<p>"You won't go away?"</p> + +<p>"Where would I go? I sleep here every night, on the floor beside you. +I'm less worried when I'm able to see you. In the daytime I'm working +hard."</p> + +<p>"Working? In the commissariat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. Everything's all right again. Those rogues have been +arrested. But you're not to talk, you impossible Vasyuk. Sleep. If you +don't go to sleep, I'll go away."</p> + +<p>Her helpless fingers tightened their hold on his hand. But she closed +her eyes quite submissively.</p> + +<p>It was so wonderful, so sweet to fall asleep with Volodya sitting +beside her, looking at her so anxiously and tenderly.</p> + +<p>"My darling...."</p> + +<p>"You must sleep, you bad, naughty boy."</p> + +<p>"I'm asleep. But I love you."</p> + +<p>Volodya bent over her and kissed her eyelids, long, very gently, +tenderly.</p> + +<p>And Vasya could have wept with joy. She was willing to die right then +and there. No greater happiness could ever be hers.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The memory of what she had felt then made Vasya start. Was such a thing +impossible now? Had her heart been right when it told her that she +could never know greater happiness?</p> + +<p>And now that joy, that happiness would be no more. She was going to +him, to her beloved. He had asked for her, was waiting for her. He had +sent a comrade to tell her to hurry. And he had sent her money for the +trip. And a dress. So he must love her. Why, then, would she never be +so happy again? Vasya wanted so much to believe in her happiness; but +doubt rankled in her breast. She had no real faith.</p> + +<p>In a brown study, Vasya again thought of the past. They had parted +quite suddenly that time. The front was shifted. When Vladimir went +away, Vasya still was so weak that she could hardly walk. They parted +on the best of terms. The nurse was not mentioned again. Vasya had come +to understand that the nurse had meant no more to him than a glass of +whiskey. "You drink it, and it's forgotten."</p> + +<p>Vasya had gone back home, and immediately returned to her work.</p> + +<p>At that time she believed that everything was as it had been, that +everything was all right again. Now Vasya remembered that even then +there had been a load on her heart. Something, somewhere, was raising +its head. Was it bitterness because of the red-lipped nurse, or was it +suspicion? Yet Vasya loved Volodya. The fear they had shared, and her +illness had bound them even closer together. They had loved each other +before, too; but they had not felt so near to each other. Now, after +the distress they had gone through together, their hearts were more +united. Still, Vasya could no longer find the joy of a bright spring +morning in her love. It had become gloomier, overcast with clouds. Yet +it had grown deeper and stronger.</p> + +<p>Besides, how could one have been in the mood for love and joy?</p> + +<p>There were the fronts, the partings, the conspiracies, the mobilization +of the Communists. They were threatened from all sides, were head over +heels in work. Working in the Housing Bureau of the Soviet, Vasya had +to take care of the refugees. It was there that she had developed her +idea of organizing a community house to conform with her views. Stepan +Alexeyevitch had helped her with word and deed. And Vasya had plunged +into her work.</p> + +<p>She lived thus for months. Of course she thought of Vladimir, always +had him in her heart. But she did not have much time to yearn for +him. And he too had his work. Everything seemed to be running along +smoothly. He had stopped trying to show off so much, and was at peace +with the "Executive."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he surprised Vasya in her attic. Quite unexpectedly. He had +been wounded in a skirmish during the retreat. Nothing dangerous, but +he needed a rest. He was given leave, and had come to board with his +wife.</p> + +<p>Vasya was glad. Yet she could not help thinking: Why just now? Could it +not have been two months before, or a month later? Vasya was so worried +just then, and overwhelmed with work. A Congress was in session at the +moment, and the Housing Bureau was being reorganized. She was fighting +for her community house. Impossible to tell when the work would be +finished. She had almost had to tear herself in two. And now Volodya +was there, wounded, in need of care. How would she manage?</p> + +<p>Troubled, she could not be really happy.</p> + +<p>Vladimir, however, was delighted as a child.</p> + +<p>He had brought her a pair of shoes, keeping the promise he had made on +her first day in his house.</p> + +<p>"Put them on, Vasya. I want to see how your little doll's feet look in +them."</p> + +<p>Vassilissa had no time. There was a meeting of the Housing Bureau. But +she did not want to hurt Vladimir.</p> + +<p>She put them on, and felt that she saw her feet for the first time. +They really looked like a doll's.</p> + +<p>Radiant with joy she looked at Volodya—she even forgot to thank him.</p> + +<p>"I want so much to pick you up, Vasyutka. But I can't, on account of my +hand. I love your little feet. And your brown eyes."</p> + +<p>Vladimir was content, excited and happy. He talked and joked.</p> + +<p>But Vasya, who should have been at the meeting long before, listened +only half-heartedly. She glanced at the alarm clock beside the little +mirror on her dresser. The minutes were slipping away. They were +waiting for her at the meeting. They would be angry. She was keeping +everybody waiting, and it wasn't proper for the chairman to be late.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa came back home late, toward evening. She was tired. There +had been unpleasant incidents. She was worried.</p> + +<p>Climbing the stairs to her attic she thought, "It's nice, after all, to +have Volodya there. I'll talk over my troubles with him."</p> + +<p>But when she entered the room Volodya wasn't there. Where might he be? +His cap was there, his coat was hanging in its proper place.</p> + +<p>He had probably gone out for a moment. She cleaned up the room, and put +the teakettle on the petroleum burner. But Volodya had not come back.</p> + +<p>Where could he be? She went out into the hall—he was not in sight. She +waited, grew worried.</p> + +<p>Again she went into the hall. There was Vladimir, coming out of the +Fedosseyevs' apartment. They were laughing, parting like the best of +friends. Why had Volodya gone to them? He knew of their duplicity.</p> + +<p>"At last you've come back, Vasya. Your cage depressed me so, I was +ready to hang myself. All alone the livelong day. I was glad to meet +Comrade Fedosseyev. He took me along with him."</p> + +<p>"Don't have anything to do with them, Volodya. You know they're always +scheming."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't ask me to die of boredom in your cage? Don't run away for +the whole day, then I won't go to the Fedosseyevs."</p> + +<p>"But I have work to do. I'd be only too glad to come home to you +earlier, but I can't. It's impossible."</p> + +<p>"Of course, you're busy. But how did I manage to sit beside you at +night when you had typhus? And I used to get away in the daytime too, +to look after you. I came to you on sick leave, Vasya. I still have +some fever."</p> + +<p>Vasya heard the reproach in his voice. He was offended at her having +been away all day. But what could she do? There was the reorganization +of her department, the coming Congress.</p> + +<p>"I believe you're not overjoyed to have me here," Vladimir said. "I +didn't think I'd find you like this."</p> + +<p>"How can you say such a thing? I'm not glad? I? My dearest. My beloved. +My sweetheart."</p> + +<p>She threw herself into his arms. They almost upset the petroleum burner.</p> + +<p>"There, there. And I was ready to think you had stopped loving me. That +you might have someone else. You seemed so cold, so indifferent. Even +your eyes were strange. Not at all tender."</p> + +<p>"I'm so tired, Volodya. I've no energy left...."</p> + +<p>"You're my tireless little tomboy!" Pressing Vassilissa to him, +Vladimir kissed her.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Thus they lived together in their "cage" in the attic. In the beginning +they managed. Although Vasya found it hard to devote herself to both +her work and her man, she was happy nonetheless.</p> + +<p>There always was someone to talk to, to advise her, to sympathize with +her when she was disappointed, to help her plan for the future.</p> + +<p>But the housekeeping was a nuisance. Vladimir had become accustomed +to good food at the front. But Vasya's household? She brought her +dinner from the public kitchen. She had no sugar with her tea, but only +rock-candy. For the first few days they lived on the groceries Vladimir +had brought.</p> + +<p>"I've brought you some food: flour, sugar, sausage. For I know how you +live, like a sparrow under the gables, without a bite to eat in the +house."</p> + +<p>When they had used up Volodya's provisions, however, they were +dependent on the public kitchen. And Volodya didn't like it. He +grumbled: "Why are you forever feeding me millet and millet gruel? I'm +no rooster."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing else to be had. I have to live on my ration."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about! The Fedosseyevs have no more than you, but +yesterday they served me a real dinner, and a wonderful one at that. +Fried potatoes and herring and onions."</p> + +<p>"Fedosseyeva has the time for housekeeping. But I—don't you see that +I'm wearing myself out without attending to anything but my affairs?"</p> + +<p>"You've undertaken too much. That's the trouble. Why do you bother +about this community house? The Fedosseyevs were saying...."</p> + +<p>"I know what the Fedosseyevs are saying!" exploded Vasya. She was hurt +at Vladimir's associating with her enemies. "And you're not acting like +a comrade when you listen to them, and join them against me."</p> + +<p>They quarreled. Both lost their tempers. Then both were ashamed of +themselves, and they made peace. Vasya, however, grew more worried +over her inability to take better care of her man. He had come to her, +wounded, and she had offered him food from the public kitchen. He had +taken better care of her the other time, and he had brought her a pair +of shoes.</p> + +<p>It grieved her to see Volodya eating nothing. He would swallow two or +three spoonfuls of soup, and would push away the plate.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go hungry than eat this dishwater. Make some tea, and try +to get some bread somehow or other. I'll send you some flour later, +from the front, so you'll be able to return it."</p> + +<p>Impossible to go on that way. She had to find some way out.</p> + +<p>Vasya hurried to the meeting. But her head was a jumble of resolutions +and millet gruel. What could she give Volodya for dinner?</p> + +<p>If only she had time she would find a way, would think, and prepare +something.</p> + +<p>She was delighted to meet her cousin on the way. Just at the right +time. The cousin had a daughter, a lively, capable girl just out +of school. Now she was living with her parents, had no definite +occupation, but was helping her mother with the housework. Her name was +Styosha.</p> + +<p>There was no difficulty about the arrangements. Styosha would spend +the day with them and keep house. In exchange, Vasya would share her +<i>payok</i> with her cousin. A load off her mind, Vasya hurried on to her +meeting. Tomorrow Volodya would have decent meals.</p> + +<p>Styosha proved to be capable. And she got along well with Volodya. They +kept house together, exchanged some of their supplies, while Volodya +received a number of things from the union for old times' sake. Vasya +was content. Volodya no longer complained about the food. But now he +had another grievance against her.</p> + +<p>"You take care of everybody, but I mean nothing to you."</p> + +<p>Again Vasya was distressed. Thus was she torn back and forth between +Volodya and her work. But why had he come at such a feverish time?</p> + +<p>She tried to explain to Vladimir. But he was angry, pretended not to +understand.</p> + +<p>"You've grown so cold, Vasya. You've even forgotten how to kiss."</p> + +<p>"I'm so tired, Volodya. All my energy's gone," was her excuse.</p> + +<p>But Volodya was angry. Vasya herself realized that things couldn't go +on that way. Here her lover had come to visit her, after an endlessly +long time, and she was gone all day, working, returning only late at +night, dead tired, scarcely able to tumble into bed. How could she +think of kissing!</p> + +<p>There were painful incidents. One evening Volodya began to caress her. +But she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.</p> + +<p>The next morning Vladimir teased her. Where was the fun in petting a +lifeless body? He was laughing, but she saw that he was offended. She +too felt unhappy about it, felt that she was to blame. He could really +believe that she no longer loved him. But where was she to get the +energy for everything?-</p> + +<p>One day Vasya came home earlier than usual.</p> + +<p>Vladimir was preparing the dinner for himself.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Where is Styosha?"</p> + +<p>"Your Styosha is a little devil. I threw her out. If she dares to show +her face here again I'll throw her down four flights of stairs."</p> + +<p>"Why, what happened? What did she do?"</p> + +<p>"Take my word for it, she's a devil. I wouldn't have chased her away +for nothing. I don't have to tell you the whole story. You'll only get +excited. She's a vulgar, filthy creature. I don't want to see any trace +of her here."</p> + +<p>Vasya saw that he was furious at Styosha, and determined to ask no more +questions. She probably had stolen something, she thought. Such things +often happened. And Vladimir was very strict about his things. Though +he was very liberal otherwise, and always glad to share what he had +with his comrades, yet he had that possessive instinct. Let anyone dare +take something of his without his permission. He'd never forgive him.</p> + +<p>"What'll become of our household?"</p> + +<p>"Let the house go to the devil! I'll go to the hotel. And I've found +some friends. I won't starve!"</p> + +<p>Styosha went to see Vasya in the Housing Bureau, demanded her <i>payok</i>.</p> + +<p>"What happened between you and Vladimir Ivanovitch, Styosha? What did +you do?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't do a thing." Styosha's eyes flashed as she pushed her comb +more firmly into her hair. "Your Vladimir Ivanovitch always was fresh +to me, so I slapped his face good and hard for him. He spit blood for +quite a while. And he won't try it again."</p> + +<p>"How silly you are, Styosha. Vladimir Ivanovitch was only playing with +you."</p> + +<p>Vasya was trying to remain calm, but her head was swimming.</p> + +<p>"A nice sort of play that was. Why, he had me down on the bed! It's a +good thing that I'm strong. No one can have me against my will."</p> + +<p>Vasya tried to convince Styosha that it had all been meant playfully, +as a joke, and that now Vladimir Ivanovitch was really cross with her. +But Styosha looked more stubborn. What was the difference what it was +all about. She would never cross that threshold again.</p> + +<p>Gloom enveloped Vasya's heart. She didn't blame Volodya, didn't even +feel hurt. It was her own fault, after all. Why was she so cold? She +had offended Volodya. He might actually believe that she no longer +loved him. But this was nasty. Why had he touched the girl? Styosha was +barely out of her childhood. It was a good thing that she knew life. +What might not have happened otherwise? The incident preyed on Vasya's +mind. She was undecided as to whether she should tell Vladimir that she +knew everything, or whether she should remain silent.</p> + +<p>But Vasya had no more opportunity of talking with Vladimir.</p> + +<p>A new order was inaugurated. Vladimir hunted up his old friends, the +employes of the union. He disappeared for days at a time. They never +saw each other. In the morning, when Vasya went to the Housing Bureau, +Volodya was still sound asleep. When she stopped in during the day he +wasn't there. When she came home at night the attic was still empty.</p> + +<p>Vasya would be nervous. She didn't know whether she should go to bed +or wait to have tea with him. She heated her supper on the petroleum +burner, arranged her papers for the morning, listened to the steps in +the hall.</p> + +<p>That wasn't Vladimir.</p> + +<p>She put out the fire, for economy's sake, and took up her papers again. +She looked over reports, sorted petitions. Someone was hurrying up the +stairs. Was it he? No, it wasn't Vladimir.</p> + +<p>Vasya would go to bed alone, would soon be sleeping the sleep of +exhaustion. But even in her sleep she would listen. It was so cold and +dreary without him.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he would be merry when he came home; he would wake up Vasya, +and make love to her. He would be burning to tell her everything, would +have thousands of plans up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>Then Vasya would feel so happy, so content. All her troubles would +disappear.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, however, Vladimir wasn't entirely sober when he came; +walking heavily, he would look about him scowling, with watery eyes. +He was full of self-reproach on these occasions, but he blamed +Vassilissa too. What a life! In a cage, under the roof! No pleasure, +no diversions—a woman, and yet not a woman! And they had no child.</p> + +<p>This, particularly, stabbed Vasya. Although she had not wanted a +child, she would have liked to have one for his sake. But it seemed +impossible. She never became pregnant. Other women wept and wailed +because of their inability to avert the flood of children. But it +seemed that she, Vasya, was to be denied the joys of motherhood.</p> + +<p>"Anemia," was the doctor's opinion.</p> + +<p>In order to cheer up Vasya, Vladimir decided to take her to the +theatre; he procured the tickets.</p> + +<p>Vasya came home at the appointed time. Vladimir was preening himself +before the mirror. He had put on fine clothes, and looked like a +"gentleman" again. Laughing, Vasya teased him. She loved her handsome +man.</p> + +<p>"And what'll you put on?" He looked at her anxiously. "Haven't you a +Sunday dress?"</p> + +<p>Vasya laughed again. What in the world was a Sunday dress? He must have +learned that in America, where people dress up in a different outfit +every day. She would put on a clean blouse, and the new shoes Volodya +had brought her. That was all her finery.</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked cross. He scowled at her so that she grew frightened.</p> + +<p>"Do you think people will look only at your feet in the theatre? And +the rest of your clothes can be sackcloth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand why you're angry, Volodya."</p> + +<p>"How can one help being angry at these organizers of ours! They've +arranged our lives as if we were in prison. Here you've no real +amusement, no real home, no decent dress! You have to live in a cage, +drink water, eat garbage and wear coarse clothes! Why, I was better off +when I was out of work in the United States!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't expect everything at once. You know—the collapse."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk to me about the collapse. What sort of organizers have +we, anyhow? They've torn down everything with their own hands, but if +anyone wants to do something constructive they shout: 'Do you want to +become <i>burshuis</i>? Hands off!'</p> + +<p>"No, you don't know how to live! That's why everything goes to pieces. +I'm sure I didn't go through the Revolution to lead such a life!"</p> + +<p>"Why, the Revolution wasn't for us!"</p> + +<p>"For whom, then?"</p> + +<p>"For everybody."</p> + +<p>"The <i>burshuis</i>, too?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly! Of course not for the <i>burshuis</i>! For the workers, the +proletariat!"</p> + +<p>"And what do you think we are? Not workers, not proletariat?"</p> + +<p>They disputed and disputed, almost coming late to the theatre.</p> + +<p>Through the streets they went, through the slush of spring. Vladimir +walking ahead silently, with huge steps, so that Vasya barely could +follow.</p> + +<p>"Don't run so, Volodya. I'm all out of breath."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped and waited. After that he walked more slowly, but +still refused to say a word.</p> + +<p>In the theatre, Vladimir met some friends, with whom he spent the +intermissions. And Vasya had to sit alone.</p> + +<p>The theatre gave her no pleasure. Why had she wasted the evening? Now, +she would have to work twice as hard in the morning.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The Congress opened shortly before Vladimir's departure. He attended +it, although he was not a delegate. There was wrangling; antagonistic +groups were formed. Vladimir was on Vasya's side. Leaving his friends, +he worked for her group wholeheartedly. Now Vasya and Vladimir became +inseparable. They went to and from the Congress together, discussed +their stand at home. The Comrades of her group crowded Vasya's room. +They drew up resolutions. Vladimir wrote on the typewriter they had +procured. Everyone was working swiftly, hurriedly; they seemed welded +together. They would become agitated, would quarrel. Then they would +laugh again, for no reason but their youth. They liked the battle for +its own sake. It kept their minds off their troubles.</p> + +<p>Stepan Alexeyevitch was there too, sitting at the table and stroking +his fine gray beard. His genial, animated eyes watched youth. +Vassilissa was always whispering about something with him. He spoke +very highly of her, said she was above the average. But he seemed +rather cool toward Vladimir. Vasya was sorry to see it. Why this +attitude? Vladimir, too, was distant in his manner.</p> + +<p>"Your Stepan Alexeyevitch is too oily for me. He smells of incense. +He's no Communist fighter. Just a toady, that's all."</p> + +<p>Vasya's faction was defeated. But she had received more votes than she +had expected. That, too, was a victory.</p> + +<p>As the Congress was drawing to a close, the time of Vladimir's +departure approached. Again Vasya was torn in two. She had to equip him +for his trip, and the Congress was still going on.</p> + +<p>But deep down in her heart Vasya was glad. Once more she had felt that +her man was not only her lover, but her friend. She was proud of him, +for he had been a great help to her group. The Comrades wouldn't let +him go.</p> + +<p>"Now good-bye, my Vasyuk. My little sparrow will stay all alone under +its gable. Now it won't have anyone to tell its troubles to. But to +make up for that no one'll disturb you in your work."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever bother me?" She embraced him, fondled him.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you say yourself that your man was taking up your time? Didn't +you complain about the housekeeping?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk of that. It's much worse without you."</p> + +<p>And she hid her head against his breast.</p> + +<p>"You're not only my sweetheart, but my comrade, too. That's why I love +you."</p> + +<p>They parted tenderly, on the best of terms.</p> + +<p>After seeing off Vladimir she hurried back to the Congress, thinking: +no matter how nice it is to be together, you're better off alone. +The presence of your lover distracts your thoughts, makes your work +progress too slowly.</p> + +<p>Now she could again devote herself entirely to her work. Work and rest. +She had never had enough sleep when he was there.</p> + +<p>"Did you see your husband off?" Stepan Alexeyevitch asked her at the +Congress.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Vladimir has gone."</p> + +<p>"That's better for you. He only got you into debt."</p> + +<p>Vasya was amazed. How had Stepan Alexeyevitch known? But she did +not answer. If she had admitted it her lover's prestige might have +suffered.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The train was to arrive in the morning. And Vassilissa was up with the +first pale light of dawn. She had to collect her things, and dress, to +please her beloved Volodya. They had been hard, those seven months of +separation.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa was happy, gay, joyful. She felt the spring in the air.</p> + +<p>The Nep-girl was still in bed, lying on her back, and gazing at her +reflection in a hand mirror. But Vasya had already washed herself, +carefully brushed her curls, and put on the new dress Grusha had made +for her. Vassilissa looked into the mirror on the wall. She saw only +her eyes. They sparkled so that her entire face looked beautiful.</p> + +<p>Everything seemed to be all right. This time Volodya wouldn't lecture +her for running around in "rags."</p> + +<p>A station. Vassilissa looked out the window. It was early in the +morning, the sun was shining. In the North one could hardly see that it +was spring, but here everything was in bloom. The trees, too, were full +of flowers. Strange, very odd trees. Leaves like those of the black +alder, but more delicate in color; and the boughs covered with white +blossoms, resembling lilac blossoms; but they were not lilacs. Their +perfume, sweet and very strong, was pouring in through the window.</p> + +<p>"What sort of tree is that?" Vasya asked the conductor. "We don't have +them in our country."</p> + +<p>"White acacias."</p> + +<p>"White acacias? They're pretty." The conductor broke off a few branches +and gave them to Vasya.</p> + +<p>How sweet their scent was. And Vasya was so happy that she was almost +in tears. Everything about her was so beautiful, so fascinating. But +the most important thing: "In another hour, I'll see Volodya."</p> + +<p>"Will we be there soon?" Again Vasya turned to the conductor. To her it +seemed that the train wasn't moving at all. It had stopped again, at a +siding. At last it moved on.</p> + +<p>Now the city was in sight. The cathedrals. The barracks. The suburbs. +The platform of the station. But where was Volodya? Where?</p> + +<p>Vasya looked out of the open window. Volodya, however, had come in +through the other end of the car, and took her into his arms.</p> + +<p>"There you are, Volodya. How you frightened me."</p> + +<p>They kissed.</p> + +<p>"Quick, let me have your things. This is our secretary. Please take +the things, Ivan Ivanovitch. We're going to the auto. I have a couple +of horses now, Vasya, a cow and a car. And I am intending to get some +little pigs. We have a lot of room; it's a regular farm. You'll see for +yourself. You'll live like the lady of the manor. Things are getting +along well. Not long ago we opened a branch in Moscow."</p> + +<p>Vladimir talked on and on. He could not tell her quickly enough of the +things he was busy with, which filled his thoughts. Sitting in the +auto, Vasya listened. And although she was very much interested in what +Volodya had to say she would have liked to talk about her own affairs, +to find out how he had got along without her. Had he longed for her +very much? Had he waited very anxiously for her?</p> + +<p>They drew up before the house. A one-family house with a garden. A +half-grown youth, an errand-boy in a gallooned cap, was standing guard +at the door. He helped them out of the car.</p> + +<p>"Now, Vasya, we'll see how you like our house. Whether you'll find it +better than your cage under the roof."</p> + +<p>Carpet on the stairs. A mirror. A reception hall. Vasya took off her +hat, dropped her coat. They went into the living-room. Sofas, rugs. +A huge clock in the dining room. Some still lifes in gilded frames. +Antlers on the wall.</p> + +<p>"Well, how do you like it?" Vladimir was radiant with pride.</p> + +<p>"I like it," Vasya replied uncertainly, looking about. She didn't +know herself whether she cared for it. Everything was so strange, so +unfamiliar.</p> + +<p>"And this is our bedroom." Vladimir opened the door wide. There were +two windows opening on the garden. This pleased Vasya at once.</p> + +<p>"Trees," she cried, delighted. "White acacias." She hurried to the +window.</p> + +<p>"Look around the room first; you'll have plenty of time to run around +the garden. Isn't it nice, what I've prepared for you? I picked out +and arranged everything myself. I've waited for you since the moment I +moved in."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, darling." Vasya stretched to kiss Volodya. But he seemed not +to see it, took hold of her shoulders and turned her so that she faced +the long mirror in the wardrobe.</p> + +<p>"See how convenient it is. When you dress you can see yourself from top +to toe in the mirror. There are shelves inside: for your underwear, for +your hats, for all sorts of gewgaws...."</p> + +<p>"Why, how many hats and gewgaws do you think I have? You've hit the +nail on the head." Vasya laughed.</p> + +<p>But Volodya went on: "Will you look at the bed? A silk quilt—I had +a hard time finding it. It belongs to me; I didn't get it among my +supplies. And here's a pink lamp to light at night."</p> + +<p>Vladimir showed Vasya around, pointing out every trifle, delighted as a +child.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I feather a cozy little nest for my little girl?" Vasya +listened, smiling at his happiness, but still not quite at ease. She +couldn't deny it, the rooms were nice, splendid. Rugs, curtains, +mirrors! But not familiar. As if she had come into somebody else's +house. The things were not what Vasya needed. There were no tables +where she could spread her books and papers. Only one thing really +pleased her. That she could see white acacias from the windows facing +the garden.</p> + +<p>"Get ready, now, and wash up; then we'll have some breakfast," said +Vladimir, going over to the window to let down the shades.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing that for?" objected Vasya. "It's so nice to look +out into the garden."</p> + +<p>"But it won't do. The shades have to be down by day, or the upholstery +will fade."</p> + +<p>Down sank the gray shades; like heavy eyelids they hid the green of +the garden shining in through the window. And the room became gray, +monotonous, even less familiar. Vasya washed her hands, and combed her +curls before the mirror.</p> + +<p>"What's that you have there? Did you have a dress made of the material +I sent you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes ...," expecting a word of praise, Vasya looked up at Volodya +inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Let's have a good look at you." He turned her about. She could tell +from his expression that he wasn't pleased.</p> + +<p>"Where in the world did you get the idea of piling all that stuff on +your hips? You've a narrow figure, just the thing for the new fashions. +Why did you get this monstrosity?"</p> + +<p>Vasya was confused, flushed to the roots of her hair. She felt guilty.</p> + +<p>"Why a monstrosity? Grusha says that's stylish now."</p> + +<p>"What does your Grusha know about it? She made a mess of the material. +You look like the wife of a pope. You'd do better to take off that +dress and put on your every-day skirt. You'd look more like yourself. +This way you're neither fish, flesh, nor fowl."</p> + +<p>Volodya did not see the disappointment in Vasya's face. He went out +into the dining room to see about breakfast.</p> + +<p>With a heavy heart Vasya pulled off Grusha's handiwork, and hastened to +put on her old skirt and the blouse with the leather belt.</p> + +<p>She was not at all happy. Two little tears dropped on the old blouse. +They dried quickly. And there was an unpleasant coldness in Vasya's +eyes.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The "manager's housekeeper" came to pay her respects during breakfast. +Marya Semyonovna. A robust woman of middle age and respectable +appearance.</p> + +<p>Vasya shook hands with her.</p> + +<p>"That wasn't necessary," said Vladimir after Marya Semyonovna had left +the dining room. "If you don't act like the lady of the house you'll +have them all on your neck."</p> + +<p>Vasya looked at him in amazement. "That's something I simply can't +understand."</p> + +<p>Vladimir served Vasya. But she had no appetite, felt ill at ease.</p> + +<p>"Here, look at the tablecloth, Morosov linen. The napkins have the same +design, too. But I didn't have them put out, it costs too much to wash +them."</p> + +<p>"Where did you get all these things? Did you really buy everything?" +Vasya looked searchingly at Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"Such an idea! Why, do you know what these furnishings would cost +nowadays? Billions! Do you really think that my manager's salary +enables me to buy such luxuries? All these things were supplied to +me. I was lucky enough to come at the time when it was possible, with +the assistance of some friends, to obtain such furnishings from the +authorities. Now they've put a stop to all this. No one can have his +house furnished like this today. Not unless he pays cash. Besides, I +bought several things on my own account during the winter; the wardrobe +with the mirror, in the bedroom, the silk quilt, the drawing room +lamp...." Vladimir enumerated everything, happily, contentedly.</p> + +<p>Vasya's eyes grew colder and colder, shone with wrath. They no longer +seemed brown, but green, like a cat's eyes.</p> + +<p>"And how much did all these splendid things cost you?" Vasya's voice +trembled. Vladimir did not notice, but continued eating his chop and +drinking his beer.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you calculated the total, including what I've taken on +credit, on the instalment plan, it amounts to...."</p> + +<p>Slowly, so as to impress Vasya, Vladimir mentioned a very considerable +sum. Raising his laughing eyes to her face, he seemed to say: now do +you see what a fine fellow I am?</p> + +<p>"Why, Vasya, what's the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>She had jumped to her feet, was standing over him with angry green eyes.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get the money? Tell me at once—where?"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Vasya? Calm yourself. You surely don't believe that +I got it dishonestly? Or don't you know anything about money values? +Compare it with my salary, and you'll see." He told her the amount of +his monthly drawing account and bonus.</p> + +<p>"That's your salary? Your monthly salary? But how dare you, a +Communist, spend it for such trash, for such nonsense? Poverty's +increasing! Misery and famine are round about! And the unemployed? Have +you forgotten them? Was there nothing irregular about your becoming the +manager?"</p> + +<p>The furious green eyes came closer to Vladimir. "Well, Sir Manager, +will you be good enough to answer?"</p> + +<p>Vladimir did not give up, but wanted to bring Vasya to reason, to +convince her good-naturedly. He laughed at her. "You live like a +sparrow under the gables, and have no idea of what money is worth. +Others are earning even more, and live quite differently. They make a +really elegant appearance."</p> + +<p>But Vasya was not the sort to be defeated with words. She had made up +her mind to demand an account. Why didn't he live as a Communist? Why +did he throw away his money on foolish trifles while poverty and famine +held sway round about him?</p> + +<p>Vladimir realized that he couldn't get at her by this means. He +would have to try another way. He would have to attempt a political +explanation. That it was all a part of the manager's task. Instructions +from headquarters. The main thing was to do all he could to make the +undertaking flourish, to increase the earnings of his company. And this +was his strongest point. Vasya must wait until she saw what he had +accomplished in a year. He had built up everything in a deserted place, +had increased the output, so that now the entire trust was dependent +on his supervision. She would see for herself. Though he lived "like +a human being" he was none the less concerned with every one of his +employes, with the most humble shipping clerk. Let her only get an +insight into the matter, then she would think differently. But he had +not expected that his friend, Vasya, his wife, his comrade, would come +there to join in the chorus of his enemies. It was so hard to work that +way. He gave all his energy to the cause, and these were his thanks. +Even his wife was against him, wanted to condemn him.</p> + +<p>Vladimir was offended and furious. His eyes were those of an angry +wolf. They flashed fire at Vasya, as though to burn her. Because of her +suspicion and condemnation.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened thoughtfully. He might be right. Everything was +different now. The most important thing was that his accounts were +straight and the work done. The national wealth must be increased. She +was not disputing that.</p> + +<p>"Because I get some things, establish my own household? Am I to live in +community houses forever? And why are we worse than American laborers? +You should see how they live there. They have their own piano, their +own Ford, their own motorcycle."</p> + +<p>In the meantime the worthy Marya Semyonovna had looked into the dining +room several times. She wanted to serve the fritters; and she saw that +these two quarreled the moment they met. That's how it had been with +the "real gentlefolk" whom she had served before the Revolution. They, +or the Communists—they were all alike. Only, it was too bad about the +fritters, they would spoil with the standing.</p> + +<p>Vladimir took Vasya everywhere, showed her the offices, the warehouses +and the homes. He took her to the bookkeeping department, too. "Just +take a look at our books, you won't find such a system of accountancy +anywhere else. See how wonderfully I've arranged things, and then tell +me that I'm wasteful."</p> + +<p>He asked the bookkeepers to explain to Vasya the principle of their +system, which was simplified, but accurate. It had received special +commendation from headquarters.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened carefully. Although she couldn't understand everything +she saw that they were trying hard and loved their work. Volodya, too, +was in it with all his heart and soul. He took her to the homes of the +employes, purposely asked their wives whether they were satisfied. He +looked at Vasya triumphantly. Everyone said the same thing: Were they +satisfied? Nowadays it was impossible to be better off. "We owe our +lives to your providence, Vladimir Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"There! And you say I'm a spendthrift! Believe me, I took care of our +employes first. I got as much as I could for them. And only then did +I think of myself. You see how they live. The workingmen are just as +well off as the office force. I made special efforts in their behalf. +Really, I did everything I possibly could."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you did all that. But what about them? What did they do for +themselves?"</p> + +<p>"What peculiar ideas you have, Vasya. Don't we have the same interests, +they and I? Before, of course, the manager stood on one side, and the +workers on the other. But not now, not here. You've become moss-grown +in your little bog."</p> + +<p>He was joking, yet Vasya felt that Vladimir wasn't pleased, that she +had offended him. He spent the entire day taking her about the various +buildings of the works. Vasya grew tired. Her temples began to throb; +she had a stitch in her side, a backache. If only she could go home, +lie down and go to sleep. Her head was still buzzing with the noise of +the train-wheels. But Volodya had just told her that there would be +guests for dinner. She was to receive them.</p> + +<p>They came home, entered the hall. The errand-boy opened the door, and +remained standing, as though expecting a command. Looking at him, +Vladimir took a notebook from his pocket, scribbled a few words, and +gave the note to the boy.</p> + +<p>"Now hurry, Vasya, so there'll be no delay. You'll bring the answer to +me personally. Understand?"</p> + +<p>He turned to Vasya again, looked at her with an odd expression on his +face, half guilty, half inquiring.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, Vasyuk? Why do you stare at me so?" His +voice sounded uncertain.</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter. But—the errand-boy's name is Vasya, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; don't you like the idea of there being two Vasya's in my house? +Can you imagine! She's jealous! But you needn't worry. There's not +another Vasya like you in the world."</p> + +<p>Gently he put his arm about her, gazed into her eyes, and kissed her. +It was the first time he had caressed her all day. They went into the +bedroom arm in arm.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The dinner-guests arrived: Savelyev and Ivan Ivanovitch, the secretary +of the administration. Savelyev was a tall, lean man, in a light gray +suit. His thin hair was neatly combed, and he wore a seal-ring on his +index-finger. Clever, rather crafty eyes, an unpleasant smile on his +smooth-shaven face. As though he were watching everything, and as if +everything were the same to him as long as he was well off. That's how +it seemed to Vasya.</p> + +<p>When he met Vasya he raised her hand to his lips. She pulled it away.</p> + +<p>"I'm not used to that."</p> + +<p>"As you say. But I never object to kissing the hand of a young woman. +It's pleasant, and the husband can't be jealous. You must be very +jealous, Vladimir Ivanovitch? Confess!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he slapped Volodya's back. Vladimir laughed.</p> + +<p>"Vasya is a model wife, there's no need of being jealous of her."</p> + +<p>"So she doesn't follow her husband's example?" Savelyev winked at +Vladimir. And Vladimir's eyes suddenly grew big and frightened.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I've ever done anything to...."</p> + +<p>Savelyev interrupted. "Never mind. We know how you are, you married +men. I've been through it myself. But now I'm leading a bachelor's +life."</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't like Savelyev. Didn't like him at all. But Volodya talked +with him as with a friend. About business, about politics. Vasya +wouldn't have discussed politics with this "speculator," wouldn't have +laughed with him at the Chairman of the Executive Committee. She would +have to reason with Volodya, persuade him to drop this friendship.</p> + +<p>They had wine for dinner. The secretary, Ivan Ivanovitch, had brought +it in a basket. They were worried about some large shipments that had +failed to arrive, and which they were afraid would come too late for +the fair.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened, trying to grasp the meaning of it all. But it seemed to +her that these things weren't so very important, as if the main point +were not being mentioned. The throbbing and hammering of her temples +bothered her, and her eyes hurt. If only the meal were over.</p> + +<p>Vladimir ordered the auto right after dinner. He had to attend an +important meeting concerning the shipment.</p> + +<p>"Are you really going to the meeting today? The day your wife came? You +ought to stay with her. It's not nice of you, Vladimir Ivanovitch." +Savelyev looked at Vladimir with a crooked smile.</p> + +<p>"Impossible," interrupted Vladimir, carefully lighting a cigarette. He +would have been glad to stay—business, you know.</p> + +<p>Savelyev could not refrain from saying, "There are two sides to +everything."</p> + +<p>And again Vasya thought he was winking at Vladimir, laughing at him. A +disgusting speculator.</p> + +<p>"If I were in your place I'd drop everything else today, and spend the +first evening with your wife. Your business won't run away."</p> + +<p>Vladimir didn't answer, but picked up his cap angrily.</p> + +<p>"Well, Nikanor Platonovitch, are we ready to go?"</p> + +<p>They drove off, Ivan Ivanovitch going with them. Vasya was left alone. +Alone, in the great empty house that was so strange to her. She went +through the rooms. Dreary, lonely, cold. She stood beside the window. +Then she lay down on the bed with the silk quilt, and fell asleep at +once.</p> + +<p>She awoke with a start. It was dark. Lighting the lamp, she glanced at +the clock. A quarter past twelve. Had she really slept so long? Past +midnight. And Vladimir had not come in.</p> + +<p>Getting up, Vasya bathed her face and went into the dining room.</p> + +<p>The supper-table was set, the light was burning. The room was empty and +still, the rest of the house dark. She went into the kitchen, where +Marya Semyonovna was straightening things.</p> + +<p>"Hasn't Vladimir Ivanovitch returned?"</p> + +<p>"No. Not yet."</p> + +<p>"Does he always come back so late from his meetings?"</p> + +<p>"It depends."</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna was sullen, and sparing with her words.</p> + +<p>"How about you? Are you waiting up for him? Aren't you going to bed?"</p> + +<p>"Vasya and I take turns. One day he stays up, the next day I do."</p> + +<p>"Will Vladimir have supper when he comes?"</p> + +<p>"If he brings any guests I guess he'll have some. Otherwise he goes +straight to his room."</p> + +<p>Vasya stayed a little while longer, silent. She saw that Marya +Semyonovna was busy with her own affairs, and paid no attention to her.</p> + +<p>Going back to the bedroom, Vasya opened the window. A cool, quiet +spring night. The air was filled with the strong perfume of the +acacias. The frogs croaked loudly, curiously. At first Vasya thought +they were night birds.</p> + +<p>The sky was dark, and dotted with many, many twinkling stars. Vasya +gazed into the dark garden, looked up at the sky and stars. Her heart +became calmer. She forgot the speculator, Savelyev, forgot the pain +Vladimir had involuntarily caused her during the day. Now she felt +with all her soul that she had come to him, to her beloved, to help and +guide him. One who associates with Nep-people cannot help leaving the +right road. That was why he had summoned her, his friend and wife.</p> + +<p>Remembering how Vladimir had arranged everything, Vasya was proud of +him. How energetic he was. Now she saw things in a different light. +Everything seemed clearer, more intelligible, more cheerful than during +the day.</p> + +<p>Vasya was so absorbed with her thoughts that she failed to hear either +the car drawing up or Vladimir walking over the rugs and carpets to +her. The sound of his voice made her start.</p> + +<p>"What were we thinking about so hard, little Vasyuk mine?"</p> + +<p>As Vladimir bent over her, his eyes seemed anxious and loving.</p> + +<p>"Have you really come, dear? I've been waiting so long."</p> + +<p>She threw her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>Vladimir picked her up as in the first months of their love, and +carried her through the room like an adored child.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt happy and gay. Volodya loved her, loved her as always! How +silly she had been! Why had she felt hurt in the morning?</p> + +<p>They drank tea together, had an intimate and affectionate talk. Vasya +pronounced her opinion of Savelyev. "It's better not to be a friend of +his."</p> + +<p>Vladimir did not deny it. He admitted that he, too, had no respect for +him; but he was useful; the whole business would have been impossible +without him. He had many connections from before, and enjoyed the +confidence of the merchants; it was possible to come in contact with +them through him. Volodya, too, had learned much from him. Frankly +speaking, he was not worth much as a man. A genuine <i>burshui</i>; but in +business he was indispensable. That was why Volodya had defended him +when the highest authorities, the "super-clever fellows," had arrested +Savelyev. And he was highly esteemed in Moscow. The local authorities +had been given a good calling-down on his account.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but didn't you write me that his hands aren't clean?"</p> + +<p>"How can I make it clear to you? He's our representative. Of course +he doesn't neglect himself. But he's no worse than the others. +Besides, the other fellows dawdle about and do nothing, while he works +conscientiously. And he knows his work, likes it."</p> + +<p>All this notwithstanding, however, Vladimir promised to see less of +him. Business was business, but it didn't necessitate a friendship.</p> + +<p>Having finished their tea, they returned to the bedroom arm in arm. +Vladimir pressed Vasya's head to his breast, kissed her curls, and +spoke thoughtfully, tenderly. "Such a dear little head. It'll always +be mine, won't it? Another friend like you, Vasya, doesn't exist. I +love only you, my Vasya, my little tomboy."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya woke up late. Vladimir had gone to work long before.</p> + +<p>She didn't feel well. She had shooting pains in her side, felt +feverish, and was beginning to cough. Had she caught cold on the trip? +Although it was a beautiful sunny day she wrapped a shawl about her. +She didn't want to move, and didn't want to get up. Marya Semyonovna +came into the room, stood in the doorway, folded her hands before her, +and looked at Vasya as though she were expecting something.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Marya Semyonovna."</p> + +<p>"Good morning," was the dry response. "What will you order for dinner? +When he left, Vladimir Ivanovitch said you'd attend to everything. +You're having guests."</p> + +<p>Vasya was at a loss. She had no idea what she should order. At home, in +the community house, she had had only such food as the State supplied.</p> + +<p>Seeing that Vasya knew nothing whatever about such matters, Marya +Semyonovna suggested various dishes. Vasya agreed to everything. +But she inquired as to the cost. Wouldn't it be very dear? Marya +Semyonovna's mouth snapped shut.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you want a good dinner, you can't save on it. You can't +have anything without money. The Communists have done away with the +<i>payoks</i>."</p> + +<p>"Do you have any money?"</p> + +<p>"There's a little left from yesterday, but not enough for today. Meat +is expensive, and we'll have to buy butter, too."</p> + +<p>"So Vladimir left you no money?"</p> + +<p>"He left me nothing. He only said: 'Go to Vassilissa Dementyevna and +discuss everything with her.'"</p> + +<p>What should she do now? Marya Semyonovna stood there, waiting for +the money, and would not go. Vasya had a little money left, but the +household would soon eat it up; and she would be left without a kopek. +She didn't like that idea.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you advance some of your money to me, and then have Vladimir +Ivanovitch give it back to you?" suggested Marya Semyonovna.</p> + +<p>"Really, that never occurred to me!"</p> + +<p>And the matter was settled.</p> + +<p>When Marya Semyonovna had gone Vasya went out into the garden. She +walked up and down the paths for a long time, until she was tired. She +felt so exhausted. Lying down, she took up a book, and fell asleep over +it.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya lay stretched on the bed. Her cheeks were burning, her sleep +was disturbed by dismal, tormenting dreams. Waking, she looked about +fretfully. Why had she gone to sleep? It would have been better to see +the sights of the city. She hadn't come to Vladimir to be sick. Yet she +hadn't the slightest desire to raise her head. She closed her eyes, and +her thoughts immediately became confused. It was no proper sleep, not +even a doze. But she wasn't fully conscious, either.</p> + +<p>"Vassilissa Dementyevna, Vladimir Ivanovitch will come in for dinner +any moment; you should get dressed. Then I could make the bed. He hates +to see disorder in the house."</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna was bending over Vasya as though, being the elder, she +wanted to correct her.</p> + +<p>"Is it that late?"</p> + +<p>"Almost five. And you haven't even had breakfast. I wanted to wake you +before, but you were so sound asleep. That's from the trip. You haven't +got over it yet."</p> + +<p>"It might be the trip, or I may have caught cold. I feel chilled."</p> + +<p>"You should put on your woollen dress; it'll be warmer. The little rag +you're wearing isn't any good."</p> + +<p>"My suit turned out badly. My husband didn't like it at all."</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that? It's not so bad. There may be too many pleats on +the hips, and the waistline isn't just where it should be. Nowadays +they're wearing the waistline ... I've been a dressmaker, too. I know +all about clothes. Just you let me remodel the skirt. We'll change that +dress so Vladimir Ivanovitch won't recognize it."</p> + +<p>"Will it be ready by dinner-time?"</p> + +<p>"That's asking a little too much. No, we'll do it slowly; we won't rush +it. Now you put on your black skirt and wear the coat of your suit over +it. That'll look very well."</p> + +<p>Never before had Vasya spent so much time before the mirror. Marya +Semyonovna was forever finding something to change. Here she fastened +something with pins, there she made some long stitches. She found a +lace collar, too. The effect was quite good. Simple, yet elegant. Even +Vasya liked it. What would Vladimir say about it?</p> + +<p>Almost as soon as she was finished Vladimir came with his guests: an +employe of the G. P. U. (what had been the Cheka) and his wife. The +ends of his mustache had been waxed to needle points; he was foppishly +dressed, with tan boots that reached to his knees. And that called +himself a Communist!</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't like him at all. And his wife—dressed up like a +street-walker! She wore a thin dress, white shoes and a fur scarf +across her shoulders; her fingers were glittering with rings. Vladimir +kissed her hand, jested with her. What were they talking about? She +couldn't understand it. It was all nonsense. Vladimir was bending over +her gallantly, his eyes flirting with hers.</p> + +<p>Vasya sat beside the man from the G. P. U. He was a Communist. But she +had no idea of what to say to him.</p> + +<p>They had wine again. Vladimir touched glasses with the lady; she +whispered something to him, and both laughed. It annoyed Vasya. But he +paid no attention to her. As if she didn't belong to him. Queer! She +didn't like it.</p> + +<p>Jokingly they mentioned the fasts. The lady said that she was religious +and went to confession, even though she did not fast. How could that +be? A Comrade of the G. P. U. married to a believer? Vasya scowled. She +was out of humor. Because of Vladimir, too. What sort of friends did he +have? Toward the end of the meal, Ivan Ivanovitch came in to tell them +that Savelyev had taken a box in the theatre, and had invited them.</p> + +<p>"We'll go, won't we, Vasya?" asked Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"With Savelyev?" Vasya tried to catch his eyes; but he pretended not to +understand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course, with Nikanor Platonovitch. With the whole crowd. +They're giving a new operetta. It'll amuse you."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't go."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I don't feel quite well. I must have caught cold on the trip."</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked closely at her.</p> + +<p>"Really, you don't look well, Vasya. Your eyes are quite sunken. Let me +have your hand. Why, it's terribly hot. Of course you can't go. And I +won't go either."</p> + +<p>"But why not? Do go!"</p> + +<p>The guests, too, persuaded Vladimir, and he gave in.</p> + +<p>In the hall Vladimir embraced Vasya in the presence of the others, and +whispered in her ear: "You look unusually pretty today, Vasya."</p> + +<p>He asked Marya Semyonovna to take care of Vassilissa Dementyevna.</p> + +<p>"Go to bed right away, Vasya. I'll be back soon. I won't stay to the +end."</p> + +<p>They drove off.</p> + +<p>Vasya wandered about the rooms, quite forlorn.</p> + +<p>She didn't like this life. She couldn't say just what was wrong with +it. But everything was new and unfamiliar. And she was a stranger here; +no one had need of her. Vladimir might love her, but he thought of her +so little. He had put his arms around her, kissed her and gone away. It +was different when he had to go to a meeting, to work. But this time it +was the theatre! Why had he gone without her? Hadn't he seen enough of +the theatre during the winter? Something was troubling Vasya, haunting +her. She couldn't express it. She felt ill at ease.</p> + +<p>"I'll stay here a week," she decided. "I'll see how things stand with +Volodya, and then I'll go."</p> + +<p>But there was the rub. Where would she go? Back to the community house? +Her room there, her attic under the roof was gone. Her friend, Grusha +the seamstress, was living in it. Besides, the Fedosseyevs were there; +there would be gossip and worry. Once more she would have to fight +everybody for the house. And she felt too worn out for that. Besides, +she had lost faith in the soundness of the proposition. And that was +the most important point.</p> + +<p>No, she had no place where she could go.</p> + +<p>This thought made her heart even heavier, stabbed it as with a steel +blade.</p> + +<p>Vasya was cold. Shivering, she drew her hands into her sleeves. She +wandered through the dark, empty rooms. She felt as if this strange +house were preparing sorrow for her. A lurking disaster.</p> + +<p>A premonition?</p> + +<p>Could a Communist believe in premonitions? But it must be that. Else, +why this melancholy? This infinite, nameless, fruitless melancholy?</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Vladimir came home early, as he had promised. Vasya was in bed.</p> + +<p>He sat down beside her, and inquired how she felt. He looked into her +eyes as he spoke, and his grave, sad gaze puzzled Vasya. His eyes +seemed to bespeak suffering.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble, Volodya? You're so gloomy."</p> + +<p>Burying his head in the pillow beside her, Volodya spoke in a +despondent tone. "Life isn't a bed of roses, Vasya. You don't know how +hard it is for me. You see only one side of my life. And you refuse to +understand. If you could read my heart, how hard I tried all winter, +you wouldn't condemn me. You'd pity me. You're so good, Vasya."</p> + +<p>She stroked his head, quieted him. And though she felt sorry for him +her heart was full of joy. She felt that they had the same thought, had +suffered the same pain. It wasn't easy for a proletarian to act like a +manager. She told him so.</p> + +<p>But Volodya shook his head mournfully.</p> + +<p>"It's not only that, Vasya, not only that. There's something else that +torments me, that lets me have no peace."</p> + +<p>"Are they plotting against you?"</p> + +<p>Volodya remained silent; it seemed that he wanted to say something, but +couldn't make up his mind.</p> + +<p>Vasya put her arms about him. "Tell me what's bothering you, dear."</p> + +<p>She laid her head on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"What smells so of perfume? When did you put on perfume?" Raising her +head she looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Perfume?" Volodya seemed embarrassed. He withdrew a bit. "I probably +got it with my shave today. The barber must have put it on."</p> + +<p>Vladimir got up, lit a cigarette, slowly, carefully, and left Vasya. He +absolutely had to look through some papers that evening.</p> + +<p>Vasya coughed a little. She felt rather ill and feverish, had shooting +pains in her side. Vladimir noticed it, although she tried to control +herself in his presence. Her coughing disturbed him, and he had his bed +made on the sofa in the drawing room.</p> + +<p>The days dragged on. It was so dreary. She had nothing to do. Only +little household worries now and then. Vladimir was trying to save, but +insisted on everything being "just as it should be." Vasya gave her +little reserve to the household, for she didn't like it when Volodya +rebuked her:</p> + +<p>"Have you really used up all your housekeeping money? It's impossible +to get enough for you women."</p> + +<p>As if it were Vasya who invited guests and wanted three courses for +dinner! However, she had no cause to complain of Vladimir. He was very +solicitous in other ways. He was worried about Vasya's health and had +gone for the doctor himself. The diagnosis was general debility; and +the right lung was affected. She was ordered to lie in the sun as much +as possible, and to eat nourishing food. Vladimir was always inquiring +whether she was doing everything the doctor had ordered. Marya +Semyonovna was to see to it that Vasya had her meals at the proper +time. He had procured cocoa for her, and had brought a chaise longue +for the garden, so that she could warm herself in the sun. Vladimir +seemed very anxious about her.</p> + +<p>When he came home he went to her immediately. They didn't see much of +each other, for Vladimir was very busy just then. It was a time of +feverish work; the fair was to open soon. Vladimir seemed worried, +thoughtful and rather depressed.</p> + +<p>Lying on her chaise longue on the little lawn, Vasya sunned herself +like a lizard, and enjoyed life. She turned over from one side to the +other, grew tanned as a little gypsy. A queer life. No work. No cares. +But no joy, either. Like a dream. She was always thinking: Now, now +I'll wake up and I'll be back home, in the community house. She thought +once more of the Housing Bureau, the Comrades, Stepan Alexeyevitch, +Grusha. Even of the Fedosseyevs. It had been a trying life, but it had +been happier.</p> + +<p>She was waiting for Vladimir. He had promised to come home earlier +that day. Vasya had the feeling that today she would be able to talk +with him. To have a good heart-to-heart talk. But day passed after day, +and they never had that talk. There were always guests, or pressing +work.</p> + +<p>Savelyev no longer visited them, nor the usual guests, but members of +the administration, who were strange and uninteresting to Vasya. Their +conversation consisted only of consignments and unloadings, of packing +and invoices, of sales and rising prices.</p> + +<p>Vasya knew that all this was essential for the Republic, that the +national economy could not be built up without an exchange of goods, +but it bored her to listen to it. When she turned the conversation to +Party matters, to Bucharin's article, or the newspaper reports about +the German Communists, they listened to her, and returned to their +subject: shipments, consignments, net and gross. Vladimir wasn't bored. +The Comrades brought him to life. He debated with them, let them +advise him. Only when he was alone with her, with Vasya, did he grow +downcast. He would sigh, pat her hands, and look at her unhappily. He +didn't ask for her help, didn't complain. What could be bothering him? +The intrigues against him seemed to have come to an end. She had heard +nothing of them since her arrival. But what gave him such low spirits? +He surely didn't think that Vasya might die? This idea gladdened her. +So he must love her? True, he spent little time with her; but she +hadn't spoiled him, either, when he had been her guest. She, too, had +been on the go all day, had hardly had time to think of her man. But +she loved him no less for all that.</p> + +<p>Lying on her chaise longue, Vasya was delighted with the treetops +standing out against the blue sky. The summer breeze gently swayed +them, as with a caress. The crickets were chirping in the grass, the +birds were singing loudly in the bushes.</p> + +<p>Getting up, Vasya walked along the grass-covered path to a lilac-bush +in full bloom. How sweet it smelled. She plucked a branch. Buzz-z-z,—a +bee flew past her, settled down on a purple mass, and dusted off its +wings.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, how brave you are. Aren't you afraid of people?" laughed +Vasya. And suddenly she felt happy, so free, that she was amazed at +herself. She looked around as if she were seeing the garden for the +first time. The green grass, the strong perfume, the purple lilacs—the +little pond covered with duck-weed, full of frogs croaking, calling to +one another.</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't dare move. She was afraid that this sudden joy, this +bright, light-winged joy might fly out of her heart. It was as if she +had never known or felt or understood the meaning of life before. But +now she had grasped it. No despondency, no rushing about, no work, no +joy, no pushing toward a goal, but life pure and simple. Life, like the +life of the bee circling over the lilacs, like the life of the birds +singing in the trees, like the life of the crickets chirping in the +grass. Life! Life! Life! Why couldn't one spend all one's life among +the lilacs? Why couldn't man be like all of God's creatures? "God's?" +She was angry with herself. Since when was she thinking of God? That +was the result of her idleness, of her <i>burshui</i> life, of Volodya's +good food. She might easily become a real Nep-girl if she continued +this way.</p> + +<p>Vasya hurried into the house. She was afraid of becoming soft.</p> + +<p>But the joyful feeling stayed with her. She was in high spirits. Had +she grown stronger, regained her health?</p> + +<p>Hardly had Vasya come into the bedroom and put the lilacs into the vase +when Vladimir drove up in the car.</p> + +<p>He hurried over to her.</p> + +<p>"Now they've begun. They've let me alone long enough, these gossiping +schemers. Now they've found new energy to dig up old matters. They've +just summoned me before the Supervisory Commission. They're bringing an +action against me. But we'll see. We'll see who'll come out ahead."</p> + +<p>Vladimir was running about the room, one hand at his back, a sign of +agitation.</p> + +<p>His Anarchism had been thrown up to him, too, and lack of discipline +and the devil alone knew what more!</p> + +<p>Here he was, killing himself with work to get things going, but instead +of helping, those fellows of the Executive Committee were only putting +spokes in his wheels.</p> + +<p>"If they keep on with this persecution, I'll leave the Party. I'll +leave it of my own accord. They needn't threaten me with expulsion."</p> + +<p>Vasya saw it as a serious matter. She felt anxious, oppressed. Was this +the lurking disaster? But she gave no sign of her thoughts. Instead, +she tried to calm Vladimir, to bring him to reason.</p> + +<p>"And your beloved Stepan Alexeyevitch—he's a fine fellow! They asked +him about me. And, if you please, he could think of nothing better +than to praise my work and say that for the rest I'm afflicted with +self-complacency and moral instability. What sort of priests are they, +judging a man not by his work and actions, but by his morals? I don't +live as a 'Communist'! Do they want to order me to become a monk? +Are they any better? Now look! They're not dragging the head of the +propaganda division into court, although he deserted his wife and three +children and married a common street-walker. Do you think that's right? +Should a Communist act like that? Why do they expect me to live like an +ascetic? What business of theirs is my private life, anyway?"</p> + +<p>Here Vasya no longer agreed with Vladimir. The C. P. was right. It +was not in keeping with the dignity of a Communist to imitate the +<i>burshuis</i>. A Communist, and a manager besides, must lead an exemplary +life.</p> + +<p>"But where the devil do you find me to blame? Of what does my +non-Communism consist? Of my refusing to live in filth? Of my work +forcing me to know every muckworm? Why don't they prescribe whom one +may invite into one's house, how many chairs one may have, how many +pairs of pants a Communist may own?"</p> + +<p>Vladimir was raging. He disputed with Vasya, but she was grateful for +the opportunity to speak out everything she had been keeping in her +heart. She didn't know herself just what was wrong, but it seemed to +her that Vladimir's life and actions were not those of a Communist. +Vladimir was trying to say that business would not go as well if there +were no mirrors or rugs in the manager's home; but she didn't believe +it. She wasn't convinced that it was necessary to be good friends with +Savelyev, or that business went better because Vladimir kissed every +woman's hand.</p> + +<p>"So you agree with them? I knew it. I thought so. You didn't come as my +friend, but as my judge. You join in the chorus. And now I know that +you despise me as the others do. Why don't you say so openly? Why do +you suppress your rage? Why do you torment me?"</p> + +<p>Vladimir was livid, his eyes were flashing. His voice was full of fury +and indignation. Vasya did not understand. Why did he flare up so? +Wasn't it permitted to contradict him nowadays? Such conceit! If only +he wouldn't have cause to regret it later.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vasya, Vasya. I didn't think that of you. I didn't suppose you'd +desert me in my need. But I see I was mistaken. So let everything go +to the devil! If I'm destined to perish, all right. Then, at least, +everything'll be over."</p> + +<p>He brought down his fist on the table, upsetting the vase. The fragrant +purple masses fell to the floor; a shining rivulet of water flowed over +the silk scarf.</p> + +<p>"Now, look what you've done."</p> + +<p>Waving her away, Vladimir went to the window. He stared out sullenly. +Looking at him, Vasya felt great pity for him, as usual. It wasn't easy +for him. But things were hard for every proletarian. It was difficult +to see one's way, to know what was right, what was permissible.</p> + +<p>"Let's stop, Volodya. Why are you so discouraged? It's too soon for +that. This matter still has to be investigated. And you've committed no +crime. So it's only a question of your insubordination. Just you wait, +I'll go to the Committee myself and try to find out what the trouble +is. Everything'll be set to rights again."</p> + +<p>Standing beside Vladimir, she laid her hand on his shoulder and tried +to look into his face. But he seemed not to notice, stood there +gloomily, absorbed in his thoughts. He hadn't heard her at all. What +was the matter with him? Why were they so strange to each other, so +little like "comrades"? Vasya brooded silently. All the joy had gone +out of her heart. There remained only anxiety, dull, oppressive anxiety.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The next day Vasya went to the Party Committee. The more she had +questioned Vladimir the more alarmed she had become. Though the +accusations seemed biased they were not to be taken lightly. How would +the matter turn out?</p> + +<p>Vasya hurried through the strange city, asking the way of passers-by, +but wasting not a glance on the sights. She wanted to get to the Party +Committee as quickly as possible. She couldn't get rid of her alarm.</p> + +<p>It was in a separate large building. The red flag flying over the +entrance. The sign beside the door seemed so familiar, made her feel as +if she were at home, in her own province. And suddenly she was happy, +yearned to see "her own people." She didn't consider the Comrades who +visited Vladimir members of the Party.</p> + +<p>She asked for the Chairman's office. The boy at the information table +gave her directions.</p> + +<p>"Write down your name and why you've come. It's possible that he'll see +you today, but you might have to wait till Thursday."</p> + +<p>What sort of bureaucracy was that? Vasya didn't like it, but there was +nothing she could do about it. Sitting down at a table, she filled out +the blank. "Here, take this to the secretary," the information clerk +handed the paper to the office boy. "Go up the stairs, turn to your +left. That'll bring you to the waiting room. Just take a seat there."</p> + +<p>He uttered these directions in a bored voice.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he woke up: "Manyka, Manyka, how did you get here?"</p> + +<p>She was a half-grown girl, wearing a short skirt and fashionable hat. +Her eyes sparkled coquettishly.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to see some friends. Why shouldn't I come to your Party +Committee?"</p> + +<p>Disapprovingly Vasya appraised her as a street-walker. "In the old days +such a creature wasn't allowed to visit friends in Party Headquarters."</p> + +<p>Vasya walked through the long, bright hall; employes, male and female, +hurried past her. There was no inactivity. Everybody was busy. Only she +was superfluous.</p> + +<p>In the waiting room she was received by the attendant clerk, a +beardless youth. With an important air he asked for her name, and +looked it up in a record book kept by a hunchback.</p> + +<p>"It's long before your turn. Your business isn't urgent. You'll have to +wait."</p> + +<p>Vasya sat down in the back. There were others waiting too. Among them +several laborers with peaked, miserable faces and threadbare coats. +They were engaged in an animated discussion. Evidently a delegation. A +tall, well-dressed gentleman with glasses—a specialist, of course—was +absorbed in the reading of an old newspaper. A little old woman, a +working woman—with a waterproof shawl, was sitting there patiently, +sighing.</p> + +<p>Then there was a Red Guard, a jolly young fellow in the pink of health. +A peasant in a short jacket, and, beside him, a pope in his cassock. +Why might he be there?</p> + +<p>"It's your turn, Father," said the attendant, showing him into the +Chairman's office. "He belongs to the Living Church," he explained to +the rest. "A very clever fellow. He can be useful to us."</p> + +<p>Various clerks came in, bob-haired Communist girls in short, worn-out +skirts, bustling back and forth, bringing papers to sign, making +inquiries of the attendant. They whispered to him, and ran away again.</p> + +<p>A very fashionably dressed woman came in. She behaved like a "fine +lady," but actually she was the wife of a prominent Party worker, +and didn't belong to the Party herself. Vasya knew her. She asked +to be shown in before her turn. She had a note from a member of the +Central Committee. Having come from Moscow, she had no time to wait. +The attendant was firm. But the letterhead of the C. C. seemed to +shake him. Finally he said he could not break the rules. If it was a +personal matter she would please wait her turn. The "pseudo-lady," as +Vasya thought of her, was indignant. She couldn't understand these +provincial regulations. In Moscow she would have been given an audience +immediately. In Moscow they were fighting against bureaucracy, but +here! Forever inventing new rules! "Officials!"</p> + +<p>She sat down, deeply offended, and carefully smoothed her dress.</p> + +<p>A corpulent man rushed in noisily, his cap on the back of his head, his +overcoat unbuttoned. "A Nep-fellow," thought Vasya.</p> + +<p>"I say, Comrade, what sort of system do you have here? My time is +valuable; we're just making a shipment, and they're delaying me +with all sorts of nonsense. Want me to fill out blanks! Announce +me—Konrashev."</p> + +<p>And he threw back his head with a self-satisfied air, as though he were +Lenin himself. Vasya felt all her old hatred of the <i>burshuis</i> boiling +up in her. That fellow ought to be arrested, to be brought to court. +That monkey-face, that impudent monkey-face!</p> + +<p>The attendant apologized. But it couldn't be done. Rules. The +Nep-fellow refused to listen. He became insistent in his demands, and +won his point. The secretary went into the other room to announce him. +But he returned with fresh apologies.</p> + +<p>"The Chairman asks that you take a seat. He has to see two others +before you on urgent business."</p> + +<p>"What the devil sort of system is this! And they want a fellow to do +business with them! They demand everything of us, and make threats +besides. Call us saboteurs. I'd like to know who is committing +sabotage here!"</p> + +<p>He wiped off his perspiration with his handkerchief. The "pseudo-lady" +nodded in approbation. The bespectacled gentleman peered disapprovingly +at her from behind his paper. The laborers were busy with their own +affairs, as if they hadn't noticed the noisy Nep-fellow.</p> + +<p>They were the next to be called in. After them the "specialist" with +the glasses had his turn.</p> + +<p>It was a tiresome wait. Going to the window, she looked down into a +garden, where two children were running about, chasing a dog. Their +high clear voices were audible upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Pull Bobka's tail. Then he'll howl. But he doesn't bite. Here, Bobka! +Catch him, catch Bobka!..."</p> + +<p>Now it was Vasya's turn. The Chairman was a small man, hardly visible +behind his big desk. He wore a pointed beard and glasses. He was so +emaciated that his shoulder bones stood out through his coat.</p> + +<p>He glanced ungraciously at Vasya, and gave her his hand without looking +up.</p> + +<p>"What do you want? Something personal?" He spoke briefly, dryly, as if +she had made a plea.</p> + +<p>"I've come to report at headquarters." It would be better not to +mention Volodya's affair at first, thought Vasya. He'd never meet her +half way.</p> + +<p>"I came here a little while ago."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard. Are you here for any length of time?"</p> + +<p>"I have a two months' leave of absence, but I may stay here longer, +because of my delicate health."</p> + +<p>"Are you simply resting, or do you want some work?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke he didn't look at Vasya, but arranged his papers. As if to +show her that he had no time for idle talk.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't accept any regular position. But you could use me in your +propaganda work."</p> + +<p>"I could use you, yes. We're beginning the work of transition to a +local budget next week. Didn't I hear that you have specialized in +housing problems?" Again he glanced at Vasya, only to return to his +papers.</p> + +<p>"I've worked in the Housing Bureau for two years. I've organized some +community houses."</p> + +<p>"Ah! That sounds interesting. You must teach us how to make the +community houses self-supporting."</p> + +<p>Vasya shook her head. "I can't do that. When we wanted to become +self-supporting everything went to pieces. A community house is on the +order of a school to develop the Communist spirit."</p> + +<p>"But, you see, this isn't the time for such things. Give us a +reasonable idea of the cost, a financial estimate, to take the burden +off the state budget. But how can you want to combine the housing +question with education? We have schools and universities for that." +The Chairman smiled a very superior smile that irritated Vasya.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she rose.</p> + +<p>"Good day, Comrade."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye."</p> + +<p>This time he looked more carefully at her. Vasya, too, looked coolly +into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You might go to the propaganda department, and register there. Then +you could stop in the women's division, they always need workers there."</p> + +<p>"I also wanted to ask you how the matter of Vladimir Ivanovitch +stands." As she asked this she looked keenly at the Chairman. He, too, +had his finger in the pie.</p> + +<p>"Why, what could I tell you?" Wrinkling his forehead, the Chairman +shifted his cigarette to the corner of his crooked mouth. "It's quite +serious. I've heard of you, that your standing in the Party is very +good. But I'm not the right man to tell you anything about Vladimir +Ivanovitch."</p> + +<p>"Of what do you accuse him? Vladimir Ivanovitch has done nothing +criminal, couldn't do anything of that sort."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by criminal? But I've nothing to do with this +business. Try to find out something from the S. C. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>He nodded to her, and again buried himself in his papers. Don't bother +me, I'm busy.</p> + +<p>Scowling, furious, Vasya left the Chairman. Even a non-Communist +wasn't given such a reception in her province. She had come to her +people, and had been treated like a stranger. Vladimir was right. They +had become officials, with the manner of military governors.</p> + +<p>Vasya walked on thoughtfully, without even noticing that she had come +on a man from home, Michailo Pavlovitch, a worker in the machinery +division of the factory where Vasya had been employed.</p> + +<p>"By all the saints, what do I see! The fair Vassilissa! Good morning."</p> + +<p>"My dear Michailo Pavlovitch."</p> + +<p>They embraced and kissed.</p> + +<p>"Are you visiting your husband?"</p> + +<p>"And what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"I'm cleaning up the Party. I'm a member of the S. C. and we're forever +cleaning up, but we can't get rid of all the muck."</p> + +<p>He laughed into his red beard. His eyes were warm, cordial. Still good +through and through, as he always had been.</p> + +<p>Both were delighted, asked and answered questions. Michailo Pavlovitch +took Vasya to his cell beside the main entrance. In the good old days +the janitor had lived there. Michailo Pavlovitch had settled there +temporarily on his arrival, and had stayed there. An insignificant +little room: a bed, a basket containing his personal belongings, two +chairs, and a table covered with newspapers, glasses and tobacco.</p> + +<p>They were glad to have met each other, and their conversation flowed on +smoothly. They spoke of friends and comrades. Provincial questions came +up; they discussed what was sound and what rotten. They spoke of the +Nep, too. Michailo Pavlovitch was thoroughly sick of the Nep. Nor could +he stand the Chairman of the provincial Committee.</p> + +<p>"A little man, but very proud of himself. 'I, Me and Company.' Of +course, he's a hard worker, energetic and not stupid. But he wants +to be everything. He'd like to be Chairman of the light that comes +in through the window. The workers can't stomach that. They say that +the Congress has decided on democratization, but that our bureaucracy +has only increased. There is more fawning and a great deal of gossip. +They're forming cliques that disturb our work, and undermine the +authority of the Party. It's the Chairman's job to hold them all +together impartially, like a father. But he drives people apart."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Michailo Pavlovitch, how do Vladimir's affairs stand? What +is he accused of? Is it serious? Tell me, as a friend."</p> + +<p>Michailo Pavlovitch stroked his red beard. He thought for a while +before he answered. "In itself the matter isn't worth a straw. If our +Communists were to be brought to court for such things almost all of +them would have to be condemned. The whole trouble is that Vladimir +Ivanovitch couldn't agree with the Chairman from the very beginning. +Each insisted on his rights. The Chairman issued orders which Vladimir +Ivanovitch did not follow, saying that they were the business of +the Party, and did not concern him. 'I'm not your subordinate, I'm +connected with the economic organization only. Let that judge whether I +do my work properly.' There were conflicts, and the matter was taken up +in Moscow, where some supported the Chairman while others defended the +manager. No definite decision was reached. Both were right.</p> + +<p>"So matters went from bad to worse. Neither would give in. Both would +send denunciatory letters to Moscow at every opportunity. After things +had gone on that way a while there came a commission from Moscow to +smooth over the quarrel. They worked out a strict agreement. But the +moment the commission had gone the squabbling began all over again."</p> + +<p>Now the matter was before the S. C. Michailo Pavlovitch would try to +settle it peaceably. The manager was working in his own domain. The +Central Committee was satisfied. And there really was nothing with +which he could be charged. There couldn't be. Michailo was convinced of +that. Didn't he know the "American," the Anarchist? He still remembered +how they had established the Soviet together in '17, how they had +worked together. And as for his living in great style, his unexemplary +conduct, and his uncomradelike manner—were any of them without blame +in this respect?</p> + +<p>However, the Chairman and the other members of the Commission were +all for going into the matter, for making an example of the manager, +and for showing that the Party didn't take such things lightly. To +discourage others from doing the same.</p> + +<p>"But what does Vladimir Ivanovitch do? Is it because his house is +nicely furnished? But that isn't his own; it belongs to the State, and +has been put at the disposal of the manager."</p> + +<p>"It's not only the furnishings. People are wondering where he gets the +means to support two households."</p> + +<p>"How has he two households? Do you think that Vladimir has been +supporting me? How could you imagine such a thing? If you really want +to know, I've even contributed my own money to the household. Because +Vladimir can't manage with his. His work compels us to receive people, +to have dinner-guests."</p> + +<p>As Michailo Pavlovitch listened to Vasya she thought she read pity of +some sort in his eyes. She didn't like that. Why should he pity her? +Because she was defending the "Anarchist"? Long ago, when she had first +become associated with Vladimir, Michailo Pavlovitch had opposed her +election.</p> + +<p>"Why are you against me? Don't you believe me? How could you think that +I would press him for money?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not speaking of you, my darling. But it's not proper for him to +have such objectionable friends."</p> + +<p>He looked searchingly at Vasya as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Are you alluding to Savelyev?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Savelyev, too. And the others...."</p> + +<p>"Savelyev doesn't come to us any more. Vladimir has promised me not +to have any but business relations with him. And as for the others, +it's all in his work. There are a great many people he doesn't like, +who are strangers to us. But what can he do? They're in the business, +shareholders or technicians."</p> + +<p>"Ye-e-es!" drawled Michailo Pavlovitch, thoughtfully stroking his beard.</p> + +<p>Vasya told him that she, too, couldn't understand many things. +Sometimes she didn't know herself what was right and what was wrong. +What was permissible, and what should a Communist not do? People had +changed and so had the work.</p> + +<p>She would have liked to stay longer with her friend, but Michailo was +sent for to go to the S. C.</p> + +<p>As they parted they arranged that Michailo Pavlovitch would acquaint +Vasya with his factory boys. As for the question of the manager, he +would think it over. But she should understand this: if Vladimir would +go on that way he would run the risk of expulsion.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> +</div> + + +<p>"At last my tomboy's come back! Where were you fighting? At Party +Headquarters? What did they say there?"</p> + +<p>Vladimir met Vasya on the stairs. He must have been waiting for her at +the window.</p> + +<p>He listened to Vasya's report, walking up and down the room and +smoking. His face was worried. "You say they're accusing me of keeping +up two households. And suppose I had five households. What business +is it of theirs, the hypocrites? My accounts are in order, I'm not +stealing any goods or accepting any bribes; what in the world do they +want?"</p> + +<p>And again Vasya didn't bother about the significance of "two +households."</p> + +<p>She remained firm concerning Savelyev. That would have to stop. Let +him go to the office, but keep him out of the house. She also inquired +about the workingmen: Was it really true that Vladimir was foul-mouthed +and abusive?</p> + +<p>"That's fiction pure and simple. Nonsense. Defamation. Of course, it +happens that I shout at them, or even curse them. But it's all for the +cause and never without a reason. They can't be left to themselves. +Especially the shippers—a lazy, dull-witted group."</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't tell Vladimir that he was threatened with expulsion. He +was sufficiently depressed without that. But now she determined to +organize the household properly. Simpler food, no more unnecessary +guests. Vladimir would have to get rid of the horse he had bought. Why +did he need a horse when he had the car?</p> + +<p>Vladimir flared up again. It was a well-broken saddle horse, would even +take a side-saddle! "It's impossible to get such a thing nowadays. +It was a special opportunity, and a great bargain. Today a horse +represents capital."</p> + +<p>"Capital? Have you any intention of becoming a capitalist? Don't joke +that way, Vladimir! You may have to weep over it later."</p> + +<p>"Do you think they'll throw me out of the Party? What's become of the +Party, that it's expelling people for 'moral' reasons? Let them do it. +I'll work with the economic organization."</p> + +<p>Seeing that his temper was running away with him, Vasya did not +contradict. She only insisted that everything would have to be changed. +Everything would have to become simpler, quieter. And, most important +of all, they would have to avoid all objectionable relationships. She +promised to speak with Michailo Pavlovitch again. If it came to the +worst she would go to see Toporkov in Moscow.</p> + +<p>Sitting there on the window sill Vasya looked so pale and thin. Nothing +but eyes. And even her eyes were not happy.</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked at her. Throwing his cigarette to the floor, he walked +over to her, put his arms about her, and pressed her close, close.</p> + +<p>"Vasya, you dear friend of mine. Don't desert me, Vasya, not now. Help +me, advise me. I know that I'm to blame. Not before them—before you!"</p> + +<p>He laid his head on her knee, like a little boy.</p> + +<p>"How are you to blame, Volodya?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Don't you understand, Vasya? Don't you feel it?"</p> + +<p>"Because you're harming yourself? Because you're betraying your +proletarianism? Don't accuse yourself before me, but before yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vasya, Vasya." Vladimir turned away, as though he were +disappointed. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked: "Is dinner +ready? I want to eat. I haven't had a bite since morning."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya was returning from a meeting. She was working with the girls +of the hemp-binding works, and was helping the woman in charge of +the organization work to get the factory going. She was working with +the crowd again, quite naturally, as if she were at home. Michailo +Pavlovitch saw a good deal of her, and she had become friends with his +"boys." The group was not exactly homogeneous, but they stuck together, +"fought" against the Chairman of the Provincial Committee, and objected +to the policy of the "economists." Their admiration was centered on a +former workingman who had become the manager of the steel foundry. He +was one of their "own people." He hadn't dissociated himself from the +crowd or taken on "the manner of a military governor."</p> + +<p>Vladimir's case had not yet come up for trial. Michailo Pavlovitch +said that new material had come in, and that it wasn't favorable. He +advised Vasya to warn Vladimir. He really must be more cautious, must +avoid Savelyev. Savelyev's reputation wasn't of the best. Let the +"economists" protest as much as they wanted, the G. P. U. wouldn't +permit him to run about at large much longer.</p> + +<p>Vasya's mind was troubled. She was suffering for Vladimir. Particularly +just now. He was working from morning to night. And as soon as he came +home he would settle down with his accounts. The Central Administration +had ordered him to reorganize the bookkeeping system. He had taken on +a specialist, a bank employee, to help him; and the two of them would +be bending over the books till three o'clock in the morning. Vladimir +had grown thin, and did not sleep well. It was only natural, with his +twofold cares. He held a responsible post, and had the intrigues and +gossip to worry about besides. Vasya's heart ached for him. It was +overflowing with tenderness for him.</p> + +<p>They received no more guests. Nor was anything heard of Savelyev. He +must have gone away. It was better thus. Vladimir had stopped going to +the theatre, no longer visited his friends. He spent all his evenings +at home. Troubled, silent, gloomy.</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't know how to take his mind off his worries, how to make his +work easier for her man, her friend.</p> + +<p>She could forget him only in the hemp-binding works, while she worked +for the Party. The factory girls led a wretched life. They earned very +little. There had been no time to look over the rates, and the pay was +in arrears. The administration was not able to manage. Silly fools! +Vasya besieged them, stood up for the interests of the shop girls. She +had set their union going, and had brought the matter as far as the +accounting department.</p> + +<p>She was kept very busy at the factory. She would forget everything +else, and the day would be over before she realized it. One evening +Vasya was walking home with the organizer, Lisa Sorokina. Lisa was +a working-girl, young and sensible. Vasya liked her. As they walked +they worked out a plan. Whom should they arouse to action, so that the +accounting department would be given a push forward in the matter?</p> + +<p>They reached Vasya's house almost before she knew it. As she went in +Vladimir came to meet her. He was quite different now. Gay, his eyes +shining, sparkling with delight.</p> + +<p>The moment Vasya came in he put his arms around her.</p> + +<p>"Congratulate me, Vasyuk. There's a letter from Moscow. I'm getting +a new position. An advancement. I'm to be at the head of an entire +district. We'll have to stay here about two months longer, until I've +finished up everything. And then we'll see what our S. C. will do. What +will the Chairman say?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be too happy about it. The action against you might come in +between."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. The Central Administration wouldn't let them insult me any +more. You don't realize that I've become a most important personality." +Elated as a boy, he fondled Vasya and kissed her. "You tireless tomboy +of mine, I'm so happy that I've brought a present for you, too."</p> + +<p>He took her into the bedroom. Some blue silk and white batiste lay on +the bed.</p> + +<p>"Here's some blue silk for a dress. Dress yourself nicely, sweetheart. +That grayish-blue will become you. And here's some batiste, for +underwear."</p> + +<p>"For underwear? What in the world are you thinking of, Volodyka?" Vasya +laughed. "This material for underwear?"</p> + +<p>"It's just the right thing for that. Soft white batiste for ladies' +underwear. You ought to stop wearing that sackcloth stuff. It makes you +look like a bag of flour."</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather have some blouses made of it. But as for the silk, +you might just as well have not bought it, though it's pretty. And I +suppose you paid cash for it? Why are you such a spendthrift?"</p> + +<p>Vasya shook her head. Volodya's presents gave her no joy. And they +would accuse him of extravagance again. But she didn't want to hurt his +feelings.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like it?" asked Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"The material's pretty, of course. But what can I do with it? Use your +judgment. Is it for the theatre? Do you want me to go to the theatre +with you as the 'manager's lady'?" Vasya laughed as she tried to +picture herself in this blue dress. "But I thank you, anyway—thank you +for your kindness and your love."</p> + +<p>Rising to her toes, she embraced Vladimir, and kissed him long, +fervently.</p> + +<p>"At least you haven't forgotten how to kiss, Vasyuk! And I was +beginning to think you had stopped loving me. You've exiled me from the +bedroom. You never come to me, never make love to me."</p> + +<p>"But we haven't time for such things, and you aren't in the mood for +them."</p> + +<p>"And you still love me?"</p> + +<p>"I? You?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to remind you how we used to love each other?"</p> + +<p>They laughed, the two of them, as if they had been separated and now +had found each other again.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya was hurrying to the factory. On the stairs it occurred to her +that she had forgotten Bucharin's "A B C of Communism." It was in +Volodya's book-case. Hurrying back to the study, she opened the glass +door. A package fell on the floor, the paper came undone. Vasya stooped +down, and felt as if her heart would stop beating. It was a piece of +the silk Vladimir had given her, a piece of the same batiste. And a +bundle of lace and inserts besides. Why? For whom?</p> + +<p>Dimly she remembered: "He's keeping up two households." Impossible. +Vasya was afraid to think of it, afraid to look the truth in the face. +But her jealousy was aroused.</p> + +<p>"He's keeping up two households." He was so variable. Now he would +be distant, would hardly look at her, then, again, he would be +inordinately affectionate, as if to make good a fault. She remembered +that Volodya always smelled of perfume when he returned from the +theatre. She recalled how he would always preen himself before the +mirror when he went out in the evening. And she thought again of the +long-forgotten nurse with the full lips—of that bed....</p> + +<p>Vasya's eyes grew dim, her hands seemed petrified. Her heart was +heavy with unspeakable pain. Volodya, her beloved, her comrade, was +betraying her, his friend, his Vasyuk. He had other women—behind her +back—while she was there. It would have been different if they had not +been together. She would ask him no questions then. But this way! He +caressed Vasya, and she felt that they were one, felt it with all her +heart, with all her love and tenderness.</p> + +<p>What could it mean? Didn't he love her any more? That was impossible! +Vasya's heart couldn't believe in such anguish. She sought for a straw +to which to cling. If he no longer loved her, how could he be so loving +and solicitous? Would he have called her? Anyway, how could such a +thing happen? How could Volodya stop loving her? They were so close to +each other, so intimately bound up with each other. They were friends, +comrades. What hadn't they gone through together! And now, again, +disaster was looming. Vasya didn't believe in it, refused to believe in +it. But the serpent of jealousy dripped its venom into her heart.</p> + +<p>Why had he spent so little time at home? Why was he so melancholy, so +gloomy? Why didn't Vasya delight him as before? Why had he sought an +excuse—her cough—to sleep alone?</p> + +<p>The serpent's fangs were sharp, so sharp that Vasya almost moaned +with pain. She didn't want to hear its hissing. Vladimir loved her, +loved Vasya! He loved her! Otherwise would he caress her as he had +yesterday? And this material might be intended for someone else. +Volodya might have bought it for somebody. How did she know that the +package belonged to him? There was no evidence. She had simply imagined +it.</p> + +<p>Vasya was ashamed of her suspicion, of having tried to check up on her +husband like an old woman.</p> + +<p>But the serpent of jealousy still was gnawing at her. Keep still, you +evil snake! When Vladimir would come back she would ask him, would have +a long talk with him, so that everything would be explained and she +would know the truth.</p> + +<p>Taking up the "A B C" she hastened to the hemp-binding works, for it +had become very late.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya was hurrying homeward. She was afraid she would be late for +dinner. At the factory the serpent in her heart had remained still. But +hardly had she reached the street when it stirred again.</p> + +<p>"He's keeping up two households." Two pieces of silk, two pieces +of batiste. How did Volodya know that this material was used for +underwear? And who used it? Girls of easy virtue, and Nep-women +with easily earned money. What had he called Vasya's things? +Sackcloth—flour-bags. But what difference could underwear make? Hadn't +he loved her in this underwear? And in the old days he wouldn't have +left her alone the day she came. A meeting, he had said. But why had he +dressed so carefully before the mirror? Why had he smelled of perfume? +Why did he no longer look at Vasya with tenderly mischievous eyes? She +would ask him when she got home: This is how matters stand. Tell me the +truth. For whom is the material? Why did you hide it in the book-case? +If it had been bought for someone else he would have thrown it on the +table. No evasions! No lies! That I'd never forgive!</p> + +<p>Vasya ran up the steps, and rang the bell. She was in a hurry.</p> + +<p>The automobile was standing before the door, so Vladimir must be at +home. She would go to him at once, and demand an answer. She wouldn't +forgive deception. She wouldn't permit him to play with her as husbands +played with their unloved, lawfully-wedded wives.</p> + +<p>Vasya became flushed with her anger. Why didn't someone open the door?</p> + +<p>She heard the bolt being pushed back. At last!</p> + +<p>"There are guests from Moscow," Marya Semyonovna told her. "Six people. +And they're all supposed to get enough to eat. That's not so easily +done!"</p> + +<p>"Guests? Who are they?"</p> + +<p>She heard voices in the drawing room. Animated conversation. Vladimir +was there too, playing the host. He introduced his wife, Vassilissa +Dementyevna. The guests were members of the syndicate; they had +brought a new program for the work.</p> + +<p>Vassilissa would have liked to ask them for news from Moscow, and +about the political litigation that everybody was interested in +at the moment. But Marya Semyonovna was in the doorway, beckoning +mysteriously, calling Vasya. She must need help. Vasya, the boy, had +been sent for wine; Ivan Ivanovitch had gone to fetch entrées. And the +worthy Marya Semyonovna was in despair. She had to cook and to set the +table. Vasya would have to help her, for Vladimir wanted everything to +be just so. The table should look well.</p> + +<p>Both the women worked hard. It was a good thing that Ivan Ivanovitch +returned, and also helped.</p> + +<p>Vasya had no time to think of the blue silk. And the serpent in her +heart gave no sign of life, seemed to be gone. Vasya wanted only to +help her man so that he would make a good impression on the members of +the syndicate.</p> + +<p>The errand-boy, Vasya, came back, all out of breath, with the wine. +Ivan Ivanovitch uncorked the bottles. The table looked splendid enough +for Easter. There were appetizers, wines, flowers, Morosov napkins, +silver cutlery.</p> + +<p>The guests were asked to come in. Vladimir glanced anxiously at the +table, and seemed content. But why didn't he at least look gratefully +at Vasya? She had tried so hard. She felt hurt, offended.</p> + +<p>Vasya conversed with her guests. But she could not stop thinking of +that blue silk. For whom was it intended? For whom?</p> + +<p>She glanced at Volodya. She saw him with different eyes, as though he +were a stranger. And if he were close to her, if he belonged to her, he +would have pitied her. He would never have let that accursed serpent +enter her heart.</p> + +<p>Vasya was tormented throughout the evening. At night she had to put +up the visitors. She sent the errand-boy for pillows, and arranged a +dormitory in the study. There she couldn't help looking at that damned +book-case again and again. The blue material was lying there. For whom? +For whom?</p> + +<p>She was exhausted. She had served tea. The guests spoke only of their +own affairs, of various kinds of goods, of different methods of +packing, of specifications and calculations.</p> + +<p>They were business men. They had been merchants. Among them were +two Communists who were seeking their salvation in trade. Real "Red +merchants".</p> + +<p>Vladimir grew animated. He was proud of his business, of being ahead +of all the others. His business was barely a month old, but it was +developing. The merchants' respect for him was evident. Everybody +listened to him. No one paid any attention to the other members of the +administration.</p> + +<p>Vasya watched them. Under ordinary circumstances she would have been +happy for Vladimir. But today he seemed a stranger. Business, nothing +but business, not a thought of her. Nor did he see how weary her spirit +was after this day. And if he had deceived her, lied to her, might he +not be a little crooked in business? Might not the Party Committee be +justified in calling him to account?</p> + +<p>And what didn't these syndicate people discuss! If only she could be +alone with Vladimir. If only she could find out something about the +blue material.</p> + +<p>Vasya undressed for the night, and waited for Vladimir. He was to sleep +with her that night, for the syndicate people had taken possession of +all the other rooms. She listened for his steps. The guests had already +said good-night. Now he was only giving Ivan Ivanovitch instructions +for the morning.</p> + +<p>He was coming. Vasya's heart pounded, her knees trembled. She sat down +on the bed. She would ask him as soon as he came in.</p> + +<p>But Vladimir gave her no chance to ask her question; he was too full +of news himself. He wanted her advice: how should they reorganize the +machine so as to strengthen the Communists, so that the members of +the Party would prevail over the members of the syndicate, over the +<i>burshui</i>?</p> + +<p>"Advise me, Vasya. Think it over carefully. Tomorrow we'll go over the +new project together. But first you read over the program by yourself, +and think about it. These 'bay-windows' would like to get the power; +they're secretly plotting against us proletarians. Let them plot! We +weren't born yesterday, either. It's our job to construct the machine +so that nothing can be done without the Party, without the Communists."</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you follow the Party regulations? Don't you often say +that expulsion from the Party isn't the worst thing that can happen to +you, that you can live without the Party?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, one can say so many things without meaning them," laughed +Vladimir. "You understand that. But how can one live without the Party? +Will we ever leave it?"</p> + +<p>Vladimir spoke thoughtfully, pulling off his shoes the while. "If +only I had this stupid case off my chest. And how we'll live, +Vasya—wonderfully. You'll see what a model Communist I'll be as soon +as I'm transferred to another district. And I won't have any more +fights with the Chairman. I'll be so good they'll canonize me."</p> + +<p>Volodya was happy, not sulky as he had been so often in the last few +days. His eyes were again laughing mischievously.</p> + +<p>"Let's go to sleep."</p> + +<p>Vladimir wanted to put out the light, but Vasya held his hand.</p> + +<p>"No, wait.... I have to ... I want to ask you something...."</p> + +<p>She raised herself on her elbow, the better to see his face. Her heart +pounded, her voice sounded curiously unfamiliar. Vladimir started.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead. What is it?"</p> + +<p>He was looking not at Vasya, but at the wall.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask you. Why do you have material lying in your book-case? +Silk—and batiste?"</p> + +<p>"Silk? Do you mean the samples?"</p> + +<p>"No, not samples. A piece, a big piece, exactly the same as the one you +gave me.... For whom?..."</p> + +<p>She stared into Vladimir's face.</p> + +<p>"You want to know for whom it is? Can't you guess, really?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Ivan Ivanovitch asked me to get the same stuff for his fiancée. He +wants to have everything I have, you know. He copies me in everything."</p> + +<p>He explained it so simply, so calmly, that the blood rushed to Vasya's +face. She was ashamed of herself.</p> + +<p>"Ivan Ivanovitch? His fiancée? And I thought...."</p> + +<p>"What did you think?" laughed Vladimir, turning to face her.</p> + +<p>"You dear sweet darling of mine! My Volodyka."</p> + +<p>Vasya kissed him. How could she have thought of such a thing? How could +she have doubted him? Suspected her friend?</p> + +<p>"Why, what did you think? Oh, you little detective! Such a +cross-examiner."</p> + +<p>Volodya put his arms about Vasya. But his eyes seemed worried.</p> + +<p>"And now to bed, no more kissing. We'll have a hard time getting +through with our work tomorrow anyway, on account of the guests. We'll +have to get up early."</p> + +<p>He put out the light.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt a load off her heart. But the moment he was asleep the +serpent stirred again. Why did he call me a little detective? And a +cross-examiner? There must be something to be found out!</p> + +<p>Vladimir slept soundly. But Vasya lay there curled up like a porcupine, +wide awake, staring into the dark.</p> + +<p>To believe or not to believe? To believe or not to believe?</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The syndicate people had gone. Now Vladimir's work was doubled. The +work of reorganization caused him endless worries. But there had +been a joyful compensation. Michailo Pavlovitch had called Vasya +to his room, and told her of some secret instructions from the +Central Administration. As the manager could not be accused of any +real offense, and as the whole thing practically amounted only to +insubordination and improper behavior, the matter was to be hushed up +as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.</p> + +<p>Vasya drew a breath of relief, almost fell back into her old habit of +saying "Thank God." She barely succeeded in controlling herself.</p> + +<p>Michailo Pavlovitch was glad, too. On Vasya's account. He liked her, +and felt sorry for her.</p> + +<p>Vasya, however, was unsuccessful. The accounting department had +decided in favor of the management. The girls of the hemp-binding shop +grew restless. A strike seemed imminent. Working under the cloak of +Bolsheviki unaffiliated with the Party, the Mensheviki were doing their +best to fan the flames.</p> + +<p>Although she coughed and felt feverish, she was at the works every day. +She fought against the management, insisted, demanded concessions. +Then, again, she sought to calm the shop girls. And her work absorbed +her so completely that she forgot the blue silk entirely. She had no +time for it. Only once did the serpent in her heart give a sign of +life; it had gained a firm foothold there and wasn't easy to drive out.</p> + +<p>This time it was the dog, the white poodle.</p> + +<p>Vasya, the boy, had brought it home. It wore a silk bow between its +ears.</p> + +<p>"Whose dog is that? Why did you bring it here? Where does it come from?"</p> + +<p>Vasya replied that Vladimir Ivanovitch had given him orders to keep the +dog in the house for the time being. It belonged to Savelyev, who had +gone out of town, leaving the poodle alone and neglected in the empty +house.</p> + +<p>Surprised, Vasya wondered about Vladimir's sudden liking for dogs. Did +he want to do Savelyev a favor? And her resentment against Savelyev was +aroused again. Why did Vladimir continue being friends with him, with +this speculator, this thief?</p> + +<p>When Vladimir came, the poodle rushed to meet him as though it had +found a long-lost master. Petting it, Vladimir began to talk to it.</p> + +<p>"Where does the dog come from, Volodya? Is it Savelyev's?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no! It belongs to Ivan Ivanovitch's fiancée. She's gone out of +town and Ivan Ivanovitch asked me to keep it here for a while."</p> + +<p>"But Vasya said it belongs to Savelyev."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! It's true that the dog was in Savelyev's house for the past +few days. Vasya took it from there. That's why he thinks it belongs to +Savelyev."</p> + +<p>Vasya listened as if she understood everything clearly.</p> + +<p>But the serpent stirred, gripped her heart in its coils. Should she +believe him?</p> + +<p>The moment Ivan Ivanovitch came Vasya flew at him. Whose poodle was it?</p> + +<p>With great detail, Ivan Ivanovitch told her of his fiancée, who had +asked him to care for her poodle. But how could he do it? He never was +at home. So he sent it to Savelyev. There, however, there were only the +servants, who would go away and lock the poodle in the house.</p> + +<p>It might have been true.</p> + +<p>But Vasya didn't like the poodle.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vladimir Ivanovitch had gone away for a few days. Something about the +syndicate. Vasya was alone. She had thought she would be lonely and +sad. But it was different. Though she was alone she seemed to feel +happier, more free. She was relieved of the burden which, in Vladimir's +presence, weighted her down like a stone. And she no longer felt the +depressing disregard of Volodya, who ignored her as if she didn't exist +at all. She knew he was busy, that his head was full of other things; +but her heart, her silly woman's heart was sad, longed for affection.</p> + +<p>She was better off without Vladimir. When she was alone there was +nothing to do about it. She expected nothing, listened for nothing, +didn't feel hurt.</p> + +<p>She invited her friends to her house: Lisa Sorokina, the factory boys, +Michailo Pavlovitch. She gave a supper party. She was happy when she +entertained her friends.</p> + +<p>After supper they discussed Party affairs, went into the garden, sang +together. It was beautiful. Everyone was gay, but Vasya most of all. +Quite different, this, from the conversations with the syndicate +people, or with Savelyev, in the drawing room. She hardly noticed how +quickly the days of Vladimir's absence passed.</p> + +<p>He came home on an early morning train, and found Vasya at the tea +table.</p> + +<p>Jumping to her feet, Vasya hurried to meet him. He didn't kiss her, but +he pressed her hand to his lips for a long time. When he raised his +head she saw tears in his eyes. Her heart grew heavy.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Volodya? Has something happened again?"</p> + +<p>"No, Vasya, nothing's happened. It's only ... life is so hard for me, +Vasya. I'm so tired of it all."</p> + +<p>He sat down at the table, leaned his head on his hand, and let his +tears flow freely.</p> + +<p>"But what's the trouble, Volodya? What is it? Please tell me, dear, +you'll feel better."</p> + +<p>"Will I, Vasya?" he asked wretchedly. "I've been turning it over and +over in my mind; I've been wondering ... I've gone through so much, +Vasya. No, things can't become better. There's no way out."</p> + +<p>And again Vasya's heart was convulsed in an agony of fear.</p> + +<p>"Don't torment me, Volodya! Tell me the truth. I can't go on this way +any longer. I'm tired—I can't rest...."</p> + +<p>She could not go on, for she began to cough.</p> + +<p>"There! You're coughing again! How can I talk to you?" Was it a +reproach or was it sorrow that she heard in Volodya's voice?</p> + +<p>And Vasya coughed. His annoyance plainly showing in his face, Vladimir +lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you drink some tea? That might stop it," he advised her.</p> + +<p>"No, I'll take some of my medicine."</p> + +<p>Her fit of coughing over, Vasya gave Vladimir some tea, and he told her +again, in his ordinary tone, how difficult it was to keep things going. +The shipping clerks had just raised a row. They demanded higher pay for +overtime, although their usual wages had been reduced. The syndicate +was losing money on their account, but they were threatening to strike +if their pay was not raised. Possibly it was the work of agitators. +After all, one could not see everything.</p> + +<p>"Ivan Ivanovitch came with his report the moment I stepped out of the +train, and you expect me to be happy! I go away for a couple of days, +and I come back to find a fight on my hands. What in the world do the +other members of the administration do? They shouldn't have let the +matter go so far. Now there'll be trouble. And the Chairman has found +something new, too."</p> + +<p>"So that's why you said life was so hard, and that there's no way out? +On account of the shipping clerks?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course! What did you think?"</p> + +<p>Puffing at his cigarette, Vladimir slowly stirred his tea, and spoke +of the dispute again. How could it be smoothed over without a public +scandal? But Vasya listened only half-heartedly. Should she believe +him? Had he really wept only on account of the shipping clerks? It +wasn't like him. He had something else on his mind. The blue silk ... +Vladimir might really be tired. The S. C. had tormented him so that +now every little thing could make him lose control of himself. She was +trying to convince herself, to believe that Vladimir's worries were of +a purely business nature. It was the members of the administration who +were to blame for this business of the shipping clerks.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> +</div> + + +<p>At last Vasya had carried her point at the hemp-binding works. She had +succeeded in obtaining concessions from the management. The shop girls +were jubilant, escorted Vasya to her door. But she knew that matters +would never have turned out so well without the Chairman. She had come +to esteem him. He was inflexible, and anything but indulgent toward the +economists.</p> + +<p>When she reached her house Vasya found the entire courtyard full of +shipping clerks. A babel of voices, disputing, shouting. "The highest +rates! No concessions! Or we'll stop work! Let the managers and office +clerks do the loading!"</p> + +<p>Vasya mingled with the crowd, listening, asking questions.</p> + +<p>They recognized her, surrounded her, drowned her voice. Everybody +wanted to tell her all about it at once. Their pay was too low, +and they got nothing for overtime. The accounts were not drawn up +correctly. They crowded about Vasya, uttered threats against the +management. Wasn't she the manager's wife? Let her explain the whole +business to him. There could be no family considerations in a case of +this sort.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened and asked questions. She knew and understood their +grievances well. The managers and office employes were well treated +and well fed, but the shipping clerks were slaves. Their children had +nothing to wear. Things couldn't be permitted to go on that way; the +union would have to exert pressure on the management. Nothing could be +done without organization and a program. The leaders came forward to +arrive at an understanding with Vasya. They would state their demands +on paper. And if the management were to refuse all concessions, they +would appeal directly to the accounting department.</p> + +<p>Vasya's blood was up. Forgetting her position as the manager's +wife she took the shipping clerks' cause as her own. How could she +help supporting "her own people" with word and deed? They were an +inexperienced mob, inefficiently led.</p> + +<p>She asked the leaders into the house, there to formulate their demands.</p> + +<p>They went in, the shipping clerks looking askance at the manager's +house furnishings as they went through the reception rooms into Vasya's +bedroom. Only then it occurred to Vasya that she should not have +brought the men into the house. But it was too late to turn back.</p> + +<p>They sat down at Vasya's table and drew up their demands.</p> + +<p>There was less noise in the courtyard, no more shouting. The men had +separated into groups, were talking and smoking.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly the uproar began again. An auto had stopped before the +house. The manager. He was entering the courtyard.</p> + +<p>"What sort of business is this? You're holding a meeting here? You've +come here to make threats? You're dissatisfied?" Vladimir's voice +rumbled like thunder. "I haven't the slightest intention of negotiating +with you here! This is my private residence. Go to the office. You +don't like the accounting? Go to the union! The management has nothing +to do with that. It has other things to worry about. You're going to +strike? That's your affair. Go ahead and strike, if the union says so. +But get out of here this very moment. I won't listen to you. I'll see +you in the office!"</p> + +<p>Vladimir banged the door, and, going through the house, went directly +to Vasya, to the bedroom.</p> + +<p>When he came in he stopped as though paralyzed. Vasya was sitting at +the table with the shipping clerks, "drawing up" demands.</p> + +<p>"And what's this? Who let you in here? How did you dare come in here +without permission? Get out of here! Get out!"</p> + +<p>"But Vladimir Ivanovitch, we didn't come in on our own hook.... Your +wife...."</p> + +<p>"Get out, I say, or...."</p> + +<p>Vladimir was white as a sheet; he was raising his arm. The men +retreated toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Are you crazy, Vladimir? How dare you! I called them in! Stop, +Comrades! Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>Vasya ran after them, but Vladimir stepped in her way and grasped her +arm so tightly that she cried out.</p> + +<p>"You invited them? Who gave you permission? Who asked you to meddle in +my affairs? You're not responsible to the syndicate! If you want to +start any strikes, go to your hemp-binding works!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! So you're driving me away? Because I'm siding with my brothers. +Because I want the truth. Because I don't consider your managerial +interests, because I lower your bonus."</p> + +<p>"You should be ashamed of yourself. You disgusting hypocrite."</p> + +<p>Vasya felt as if he had lashed her with a whip. Disgusting? She, Vasya, +was disgusting?</p> + +<p>They faced each other furiously, like enemies. But her heart was filled +with agonizing, excruciating pain. Was her happiness gone forever?</p> + +<p>The shipping clerks had dispersed, and Vladimir had gone to the office. +Lying across the bed, her face buried in the quilt, Vasya was letting +her tears wet the silk. But her sorrow could not be relieved by tears.</p> + +<p>She was heart-broken, not at his having called her disgusting, but at +their estrangement, their inability to understand each other. Like +enemies, in two hostile camps.</p> + +<p>The days that followed were dismal, cheerless. Vladimir spent much time +at home. But what good did that do? They were just like strangers, +spoke only when it was absolutely necessary. Each lived his own life. +Vasya was ill again. Ivan Ivanovitch had gone for the doctor, who had +ordered a complete rest for her, and had forbidden all excitement.</p> + +<p>Vladimir was very busy with his work. He would sit up half the night +in his study with Ivan Ivanovitch and the bookkeeper. They would come +out for supper, but their thoughts were wrapped in their business; they +were taciturn and in bad humor.</p> + +<p>Occasionally Lisa Sorokina would visit Vasya to tell her about the +hemp-binding works. The girls were sorry that she was ill.</p> + +<p>Yet her illness did not distress Vasya as much as the knowledge that +she and Volodya had become estranged. Neither could forget the quarrel +about the shipping clerks. Neither could forgive the other.</p> + +<p>Vasya thought of going home to her province. She wanted to be back +home. But where could she go? Grusha was living in her attic under the +roof; it would be very crowded for two. She could not think of going to +her parents to recuperate, for they would weep over her, and would rail +against the Bolsheviki. Where, then? Vasya wrote to Grusha, asking her +to get a room for her. And she wrote to Stepan Alexeyevitch, asking +him to procure some work for her, with the Party, with the masses. She +would go as soon as she heard from them. Why should she stay here? No +one needed her. Volodya would get along without her. The days dragged, +slowly, heavily.</p> + +<p>It was midsummer. The cherries in the garden were ripe; the plums were +covered with a purplish bloom. The lilies, white and delicate, shone +on their tall, dewy stalks. But nothing delighted Vasya now. As she +wandered through the garden she would remember how she had lain in the +chaise longue in the spring, how glad she had been that she was alive. +And the memory made her heart even heavier.</p> + +<p>She felt as if she had been quite another Vasya then, a young, +confiding Vasya. Something had gone out of her. What was it? She didn't +know exactly. But this much was certain. It had gone out of her, and +would never come back.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Vladimir would stand at the window and watch Vasya walking +about the garden, indifferent, drooping. He would stand at the window a +while; then, turning away abruptly, would return to Ivan Ivanovitch and +his work.</p> + +<p>Then Vasya would sigh with fresh disappointment. She had expected him +to come down to her, to the garden. And he hadn't come. There it was. +It was clear that he had no more feeling for her. To him business was +more important than the anguish of a woman's heart.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Some noise woke Vasya. It was morning. Vladimir was rummaging in his +wardrobe, taking out something.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there so early, Volodya?"</p> + +<p>"I have to meet a train, there's a consignment coming in."</p> + +<p>"Must you go yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I have to supervise."</p> + +<p>Vladimir was standing before the mirror, putting on his new tie; but he +couldn't quite manage it. As Vasya looked at him she suddenly felt once +more that he was so close, so deeply bound to her.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Volodya. Let me help you."</p> + +<p>He came obediently, sat down on the bed. Vasya made his tie. They +looked at each other, and suddenly, without a word, they were in each +other's arms.</p> + +<p>"My little Vasyuk! My darling. It hurts so to live beside you, and yet +so terribly far away. Can't it be different?" he asked plaintively, +pressing Vasya's curly head to his breast.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it doesn't hurt me? I don't want to live any more."</p> + +<p>"But why do we quarrel, Vasyuk?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. There's some barrier between us."</p> + +<p>"No, Vasya. No, nothing can stand between us. My heart is all yours, +only yours."</p> + +<p>"And you haven't stopped loving me?"</p> + +<p>"You silly little thing." He kissed her. "Come, let's stop quarreling. +It's stupid, and makes both of us suffer. And I can't afford to lose +you, Vasya. I can't live without you. So now we won't hurt each other +any more?"</p> + +<p>"You won't try to play a managerial rôle any more?"</p> + +<p>"And you won't set the shipping clerks against me?"</p> + +<p>They laughed.</p> + +<p>"But now you go to sleep. If you don't sleep you'll be sick again for +the day. I'll be back in about two hours."</p> + +<p>Covering her, he kissed her eyes and went. Vasya felt happy, light of +heart. She fell asleep as if all her joy had come back to her, as if +she had lost nothing.</p> + +<p>Vladimir didn't come back from the station, but telephoned that he +would have to go to the office. He would be back for dinner. Vasya was +feeling better, but she didn't go to the hemp-binding works. Instead, +she busied herself about the house, helping Marya Semyonovna to +straighten up the house.</p> + +<p>Not long before dinner the telephone rang. Vasya answered.</p> + +<p>"Hello."</p> + +<p>"Is Vladimir Ivanovitch at home?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet. Who's speaking?"</p> + +<p>"The administrative office."</p> + +<p>"But why do you call here? He's still in your office."</p> + +<p>"No, he's not here; he left the office some time ago. Please forgive +me."</p> + +<p>That woman's voice again. Who was it? Vasya didn't like that voice. +During the first few days of her stay it had called often. Then it had +stopped. Vasya once asked Ivan Ivanovitch, quite casually, who it might +be that was forever telephoning from the office, and during working +hours at that. Ivan Ivanovitch explained that it was the clerks. Queer, +that their voices should be so much alike. And again Vasya felt the +serpent's fangs.</p> + +<p>Vladimir brought home two members of the administration for dinner.</p> + +<p>They discussed the morning's consignments. Nevertheless he found time +to ask how Vasya was feeling, whether she had been sunning herself, as +the doctor had ordered.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't lie in the sun."</p> + +<p>Dryly Vasya brought the conversation to a close, adding carelessly:</p> + +<p>"The young lady who's forever phoning you from the office called again."</p> + +<p>"What young lady?" Vladimir looked surprised. "From the office, you +say? Then it must be the Shelgunov woman—some young lady, that one! A +venerable materfamilias. You've seen her, Vasya—the fat woman with the +wart on her face."</p> + +<p>He spoke so simply, so naturally. But Vasya felt uneasy.</p> + +<p>No. Something was wrong there.</p> + +<p>After dinner the gentlemen of the management went away. Vasya was +glad. She wanted to be alone with Vladimir, to warm her spirit. The +morning's promise of joy would be fulfilled.</p> + +<p>But the guests had hardly left when the telephone buzzed in the study. +Vladimir went to answer it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's I." Curtly, "Didn't I ask you not to telephone?"</p> + +<p>A short laugh. "Family matters, of course." Reproachfully, "By no +means, I forbid it most decidedly." Vehemently, "All right, all right." +Relenting, "But not for long. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Vasya was in the next room, listening.</p> + +<p>With whom was he speaking? Whom did he promise: "But not for long?" To +whom could he say: "I forbid it."</p> + +<p>Vladimir went from the study straight into the bedroom, passing Vasya +as though he didn't see her. She followed him. He was standing before +the mirror, combing his hair.</p> + +<p>"To whom were you speaking, Volodya?"</p> + +<p>"To Savelyev."</p> + +<p>"To Savelyev? Has he come back?"</p> + +<p>"This morning."</p> + +<p>"Did you meet him?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, what sort of cross-examination is this? You know I was +supervising the unloading of a shipment this morning." He seemed +disturbed.</p> + +<p>"And you're going to him right away? Did you promise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm going there."</p> + +<p>Silence.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt her heart hammering, pounding. As if it would burst. If only +it would. She could endure this agony no longer. She went quickly over +to Vladimir, gently took his hand. "Don't do that, Volodya. Don't start +that business again...."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Don't have anything to do with that crooked speculator. I've been +warned. After all, that's the principal thing they have against you, +your association with objectionable people."</p> + +<p>"Ah. There you go again. Talking like one of your Supervisory +Committee. Do you insist on tormenting me? Tyrannizing me? Do you want +to tie me to your apron strings?"</p> + +<p>Flushed, he pushed Vasya's hand away.</p> + +<p>"Stop, Vladimir. Stop. What did you say? Did I ever attempt to chain +you to me? Try to keep your head. I'm talking about you, not myself. +Don't dig a pit for yourself. You have enemies enough. And if you +resume your friendship with Savelyev...."</p> + +<p>"What has Savelyev to do with this?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? What has he to do with this? Aren't you going to +him?" Vasya's eyes were troubled.</p> + +<p>"Of course I'm going to him. But what of it? Can't you understand that +I'm going to him on business? It can't be helped."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you," she cried hotly. "Postpone it for tomorrow, tell +him to come to the office."</p> + +<p>"What a child you are, Vasya," he said, altering his tone. "All right, +I'll tell you the truth. It's true that Savelyev didn't call me over to +discuss business. That can be attended to in the office. He's simply +having a jolly little crowd at his house. And he asked me to come over +for a game of cards. You know yourself, Vasya, that I went nowhere for +almost a month. I was at home, and taken up with business, all the +time. Let me get a breath of air for a change, Vasya. I'm young. I want +to live. I can't be a hermit."</p> + +<p>"I understand, Volodya," she said sadly. "Yes, everything's as you +say. And your getting a little diversion is no calamity. But you must +understand one thing. You mustn't start up again with this Savelyev, +this speculating scoundrel. You have no respect for him yourself. What +do you need him for? People will be saying right away that Vladimir +Ivanovitch and Savelyev are hand and glove again. And then the whole +business'll start all over again. Volodya darling. Please don't go +there today. Cancel it."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" Volodya was losing his patience. "If the Provincial +Committee has nothing to do but take legal action against a fellow +because of his acquaintances, then it's no Provincial Committee but a +cesspool. You're exaggerating, Vasya."</p> + +<p>"But I don't like to see you go there. I know he can't stand me. He +asks you over only to hurt me. Didn't I hear you say over the phone +that you couldn't come on account of your family? And then you laughed. +Volodya...." She was becoming agitated. "It hurts me to see you +laughing with a stranger about me, and with Savelyev at that. As if I +didn't let you go."</p> + +<p>"Well. You don't."</p> + +<p>"So that's how you put it. Very well, then, go! But remember ...," her +eyes flashed. "Remember that my patience is at an end. I've helped +you, suffered for you, stood up for you. That's enough. Go if you want +to. But then I'll know what I have to do." Her voice rose to a shrill, +hysterical shriek.</p> + +<p>"I'm sick of your hysterics! Why do you nag me—what do you want of me?"</p> + +<p>"Volodya!" There were tears in Vasya's voice. "I've never asked you for +anything. But today I beg you to stay. For your sake, and mine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you women. You're all the same. Disgusting." Rushing past her, he +hurried through the hall; the front door banged. The motor purred.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>"I've come to you, Lisa. Take me in. I've gone away from him forever."</p> + +<p>Her voice failed her, but her eyes were dry. Her misery was too great +for tears.</p> + +<p>"You've come away from him? You should have done it long ago! We've all +been wondering that you've stood it so long...."</p> + +<p>"We've become estranged, Lisa. That's the terrible thing," wailed Vasya.</p> + +<p>"Of course. How in the world can you love him?"</p> + +<p>Vasya ignored the question. She could hardly believe what had happened. +She could never forgive, never forget this indignity. It had been the +first time she had begged him for something. And what had he done? He +might just as well have walked over her dead body. And why? Why? To +play cards with that thief, that speculator, Savelyev, and a crowd of +his filthy fellows! It was all the same to him that Vasya was dying of +grief. As long as he was having a good time, as long as he was getting +the entertainment he wanted. Was that love? Was that her friend and +comrade? Was that a Communist?</p> + +<p>Lisa was unable to make head or tail out of Vasya's incoherent speech. +What had happened? What did Savelyev have to do with it?</p> + +<p>"What does he have to do with it? Why, it was all on his account, on +account of that crooked speculator. Vladimir went to him."</p> + +<p>"You think he went to him?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to whom do you think? Don't you believe it?"</p> + +<p>"But what is there to believe? The whole town knows it; only you seem +to be blind. Or do you refuse to see it? Do you refuse to realize it?"</p> + +<p>"See what, Lisa? Tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Why, that your Vladimir has a friend!"</p> + +<p>"A friend?"</p> + +<p>Vasya did not understand at once, but stared at Lisa. She was neither +shocked nor grieved, but only surprised.</p> + +<p>"A friend you say. Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Not one of us, not a working-girl. One of the office employees."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her?"</p> + +<p>"I've seen her. The whole town knows her."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"She's always so dressed up. That's why the Comrades are so angry at +your Vladimir. Michailo Pavlovitch told you of this friendship, too. +How could you help knowing about it? You're not so stupid otherwise. +But in this affair you've acted like a real goose!"</p> + +<p>Vasya, however, was concerned with something quite different.</p> + +<p>"Does he love her?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know? He must love her; he's been running around with her +for so many months. People thought the affair would stop when you came. +But nothing of the sort. He's forever going to her in his car."</p> + +<p>"Does she have a home of her own?"</p> + +<p>"The chances are it's more elaborate than yours."</p> + +<p>So that's what it was. "He's keeping up two households."</p> + +<p>Now Vasya understood everything. Everything but one point. Why had +Volodya lied to her, tormented her, deceived her?</p> + +<p>"What do you expect? Was he to come to you as the contrite sinner? +Or was he to beg you for permission to visit his friend? It was your +business to see it. If you didn't, you were a fool, and have only +yourself to blame."</p> + +<p>"Why do you insist on talking about my being a fool, Lisa? That's not +important. The question is this: Does he really love her, or does it +only look like it?"</p> + +<p>"How do you mean? I don't know what you're talking about! He must love +her. Doesn't he support her entirely, and give her expensive presents?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? But, you see, I don't know...."</p> + +<p>"You surely don't believe that he loves you? Don't fool yourself, +Vasya. It'll only hurt you all the more. He likes and esteems you, of +course. You're his wife and comrade. But as for loving you. That was +over long ago. I know."</p> + +<p>Vasya shook her head. "But, you see, I don't agree with you."</p> + +<p>Her stupidity annoyed Lisa, who now told her about Volodya's friend. +Beautiful as a picture. And her clothes. Always dressed in silks and +always surrounded by admirers. Savelyev was one of them; knew her well. +It was very gay there in the evening. And there were rumors that both +Vladimir and Savelyev were keeping her.</p> + +<p>For some reason or other this idea was particularly distasteful to +Vasya.</p> + +<p>Had Vladimir actually changed so? Could he really love a woman like +that? Vasya didn't believe the stories she heard. She didn't believe +them. Something was wrong there.</p> + +<p>Lisa, however, was offended. "All right, don't believe me. It's your +own affair. Ask anybody; everyone'll tell you the same thing. She +was in the office as Savelyev's secretary, until she let the manager +keep her. But it's possible that others are making use of her, too. +They're talking about Ivan Ivanovitch, too. And some members of the +administration visit there occasionally. She's a real one, only not +registered. Her luck that they don't have to have permits nowadays."</p> + +<p>"But Vladimir would never have fallen in love with a woman like that," +objected Vasya.</p> + +<p>"Why do you think that? Men like that kind, especially men like your +Vladimir. You can see it in his face: the worse the woman, the better +he'll like her."</p> + +<p>"Be still, Lisa! How dare you! You don't know him. How can you judge +him like this?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you stand up for him? Didn't he make you the laughing-stock of +the town? But you, you defend him like a fortress!"</p> + +<p>"Made me a laughing-stock! And how, if you please? What have Vladimir's +actions to do with me? I'm not responsible for him. You don't +understand, Lisa. That isn't why I'm suffering. That's not it at all."</p> + +<p>"I know. You're suffering because he doesn't love you any more."</p> + +<p>"No, Lisa, that's not it, either. It hurts, of course. But it's not the +most important thing. I know what I mean, but I can't find the words. +What is it? We were such comrades, so close and intimate and suddenly +you say: Vladimir turned away from me, lied to me, was afraid of me. Of +me! How could he? Would I have stood in his way? Would I have kept him +from his love? He couldn't, Volodya couldn't think that! There must be +something else. He can't love that girl so much."</p> + +<p>"Now you're beating about the bush," said Lisa, waving her away +angrily. "It's impossible to talk to you. You're still in love with +Volodya: 'Strike me, wipe your feet on me—it's all the same to me, I'm +still your obedient wife—I'll lick your boots'—I'm not like that. I'd +have got even with him long ago. I'd have given him something to think +about."</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't deny it. But the more Lisa condemned Vladimir, the more +ardently Vasya defended him. She wanted to convince Lisa that he was +wrong not in taking a friend, not in loving another woman, but only in +his not having told her, Vasya, about it. As if she weren't his friend +and comrade, but a stranger. What was more, she meant less to him than +a stranger, for he had no faith in her. Did he think that she would +fight for her rights like a legitimate wife?</p> + +<p>"You must fight for them," shouted Lisa. "Of course you must fight for +them. How dared he make you ridiculous? Then you surely must leave him."</p> + +<p>Vasya objected. It was always like that. In her heart she often +condemned Vladimir, disagreed with him entirely. But the moment some +one else attacked him she took his side and grew indignant. People +didn't understand him. She alone knew Vladimir, the American. Only when +she said "The American" did the tears come. She remembered Vladimir, +the American, leading the members of their group, fighting for the +Soviet.</p> + +<p>Weeping, she fell in Lisa's arms. She was not thinking of Vladimir, the +manager, but she was mourning for the "American," was suffering for him +inconsolably, mortally.</p> + +<p>"It's so hard for me, Lisenyka. I'm exhausted."</p> + +<p>"I know, darling. Only be patient. It'll pass. I went through the same +thing last year. But when we meet nowadays it doesn't bother me at all."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya was unable to sleep, although Lisa had given her her own bed, +sleeping on a couple of chairs herself. Lisa had worked all day; now +she was sleeping soundly. Vasya turned restlessly from side to side, +now sitting up, now lying down again. She couldn't rest. Countless +thoughts raced through her head, tortured and broke her heart. It was +like that dreadful night when she had found the bandage, when Vladimir +had been arrested.</p> + +<p>It wasn't jealousy that was tormenting her. But Volodya's lack of +confidence hurt her. If not for that, she would forgive everything. Man +cannot control his heart. But Vasya did not believe that he loved the +other girl. She did not believe it. It was only a "liaison." For months +he had lived alone, he of the ardent temperament. (She remembered +Styosha.) He had begun an affair with her, and it went on. She probably +wouldn't let him go. Lisa, too, said he was a ladies' man. And if it +was that, it couldn't be a case of love. Therefore she was looking out +for her own advantage. Volodya would have liked to tear himself away, +but he could not. Vasya remembered how moody, how variable he had been; +now loving, now distant. He had suffered agonies. How could one live +with the person one loved while the other was sharpening the knife +behind his back? She remembered how frequently Vladimir had tried to +confess something, how he had always stopped short. He had been about +to say something on the morning of the clash with the shipping clerks. +Vasya had felt he had it on the tip of his tongue. She, too, had been +frightened, and unfortunately had begun to cough. Then Vladimir said +nothing more; did he, therefore, pity her? And if he pitied her, he +loved her. But did he love her? It was easy to say he did. But what +about the blue material? The same for both of them?</p> + +<p>"I have bought you a present, my beautiful sweetheart; and I haven't +forgotten that wearisome wife of mine. Here, take the silk, and say +nothing."</p> + +<p>Damn him! Vasya clenched her fists as though she wanted to fight with +Vladimir. She thought: so he didn't go to Savelyev yesterday? And +Savelyev had nothing to do with it. He had been only a screen. Had she +known that he had a friend who pretended to love him, she would not +have been angry with Vladimir. She would have been unhappy; still, +she would have understood. But to humiliate Vasya for that vulgar +speculator, Savelyev! She would have understood the affair with his +friend; yet, would she have forgiven? As she had forgiven him for the +nurse, for Styosha? Would she have been able to like the white poodle, +to forget the blue silk?</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Lisa had hardly left for work in the morning when the door opened and +Marya Semyonovna appeared, a black lace shawl wrapped about her head. +She was gasping for breath. It was hot—midsummer.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Vassilissa Dementyevna. I'm bringing you a letter from +your husband. He wanted me to take a cab, to get here faster. But where +can one be found nowadays? I'm all out of breath."</p> + +<p>As Vasya tore open the envelope bearing the address of the office, her +fingers seemed petrified.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"Vasya! What does this mean? What are you doing to me? Why do you +torture me so unmercifully? Do you want a scandal throughout the +district to give my enemies new material to ruin me? You've often +said you were my friend; but you've joined my foes. You've destroyed +my soul. I can't go on with this life. If you no longer love me, say +so openly. Why do you stab me from behind? You know I love only you. +Everything else everyone says about me is nonsense, ephemeral. Listen +to me! I swear to you that I was not with Savelyev yesterday! I swear +to you that I kept faith with you where I was yesterday. My heart +beats for you only. I'm all worn out, Vasya. Have pity. Come to me, +let me look into your dear eyes and tell you everything. The whole +truth! If you're my friend and comrade, you'll come. If not—then, +good-bye. But this you must know: that I won't live without you.</p> + +<p class="ph2">"Your wretched Volodya."</p> +</div> + +<p>Vasya read the letter twice. Now her heart was filled with tenderness, +and the tears welled up in her eyes. "Ephemeral." "I love only you." +Then again she raged: She had "tortured" him! He asked her to pity him! +Had he had pity with her? Had he not tormented her? Her eyes were dry, +her pale lips pressed together in a thin line.</p> + +<p>"Wretched!" You don't say! Wretched! All night long he had made love +to another woman; he had given her blue silk. How she had begged him +yesterday: Stay! She had put all her soul into her eyes. But he had +pushed her away; had shouted at her like a real lawful husband, and had +gone. Now he wrote: "I love only you!" He was lying. He did not love +her. A fine sort of love, that! Only pain and bitterness! Yet why had +he written "Good-bye! But this you must know: that I won't live without +you." Surely he wouldn't...? Nonsense. It was merely a threat, to make +her relent, to make her come to him at once, like a fool.</p> + +<p>She read the letter once more.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile Marya Semyonovna sat there quite unconcerned, wiping +off her perspiration, fanning herself with her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Vladimir Ivanovitch came home yesterday almost as soon as you had +gone. He asked where you were. He went into the study and began to +write. About midnight he came into the kitchen to ask whether you had +come back. 'No,' I said, and he went away. Then he took Ivan Ivanovitch +to the door, and went into the bedroom. He must have seen your note +there. I heard him crying like a heart-broken little child. And he +didn't lie down all night, but walked around all the time. This morning +he didn't even drink tea. 'I don't want anything,' he said to me. Go +and look for Vassilissa Dementyevna. Go to all her friends, till you +find her. Don't you dare come back without her!'"</p> + +<p>Vasya listened, aching with the old love for Vladimir. He had waited +for her alone through the night, had wept and suffered, had called +her, Vasya. And how hard it had been for her. How she had yearned for +him. She had been jealous. So the threads that had bound their hearts +together were not broken; their love was not gone entirely! Why prolong +the agony? Should she go back? Back to him for a good talk?</p> + +<p>"What was Vladimir Ivanovitch doing when you left? Was he going to the +office?"</p> + +<p>"When I left? Why, he was just telephoning to the 'little lady,' +probably wanted to tell her his troubles. Or maybe he wanted her to +share in his joy. Who can understand these men? If only there'll be no +scandal!"</p> + +<p>He had called up the "little lady"? Now? At such a time? He had written +a letter to Vasya, and then telephoned to his lady? Lisa might be +right. He was clinging to Vasya only to avoid a scandal. If his wife +had not been held in such high esteem he would not have bothered about +her. And he was calling her only to humiliate her again. No! She had +had enough. She would not go to him, would not fall into the trap. Her +head was reeling.</p> + +<p>"Tell Vladimir Ivanovitch that there's no answer. That's all. And +hurry. Please go!"</p> + +<p>"I can't go any faster. And it doesn't pay to hurry in such things. You +should have thought of this before, Vassilissa Dementyevna. Of course, +Vladimir Ivanovitch did wrong by you, for you're his wife; but you +aren't altogether in the right either. Who would leave such a young man +all alone for months? And if you think about it, Vladimir Ivanovitch +is a good husband after all. Always worrying about you. Always wanting +to know whether you're drinking your cocoa, whether I've fetched fresh +eggs for you. He cares more for your clothes than you do. He's never +refused you anything. And where women are concerned—who is blameless +there? You're his wife; people respect you. But on the other side? He +pays her and gives her presents—that's all."</p> + +<p>As Marya Semyonovna spoke Vasya's heart was growing heavier. How simple +everything would be if she, too, could think that. But Marya Semyonovna +did not understand just what had hurt her. Vladimir was no longer her +friend. She had lost faith in him; and how could they live together +without faith?</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you ought to wait till evening, Vassilissa +Dementyevna? Couldn't I go home and tell your husband that you want to +think things over, and will give your answer in the evening? That'd +be more sensible. But to talk this way, deciding on the spur of the +moment——. It's easy to make a mistake when you're angry. I want to +save you regrets and tears."</p> + +<p>"No, Marya Semyonovna. Don't try to persuade me. It'll be as I've said. +I'm never coming back. It's all over."</p> + +<p>Her lips trembled as she spoke, and big tears rolled slowly down her +hollow cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's your own business. I've said enough. You have to do the +deciding!" And Marya Semyonovna went.</p> + +<p>Again Vasya wanted to moan like a wounded animal, to sob loudly so that +she could be heard throughout the house and on the street; for it was +all over. There was no going back. Farewell, Volodya. Farewell.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya wept inconsolably, until finally she fell asleep, buried in +Lisa's pillow. For she had not closed her eyes all night.</p> + +<p>She was awakened by the sound of an auto chugging away under her window.</p> + +<p>Whose car? She jumped to her feet. Was Vladimir coming for her? Hope +and joy awoke in her heart. She pushed the window open—Vasya, the boy, +was standing at the door.</p> + +<p>"Vassilissa Dementyevna, something terrible has happened. Vladimir +Ivanovitch has taken poison."</p> + +<p>"How? What?" Vasya flew over to the boy, seized his hand. "Is he dead?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet. He's still alive. But he's writhing; he's in agony. He's +calling for you. Ivan Ivanovitch sent me in the car."</p> + +<p>Hatless, barely dressed, Vasya entered the auto. Her teeth were +chattering, she was trembling as from a fever.</p> + +<p>She had killed him! Had hurt him mortally! She had refused her pity and +her help. And he had begged for her in the morning—how he had begged +for her!</p> + +<p>She stared before her with wide-open eyes. They expressed not sorrow, +but death, the inevitable.</p> + +<p>Vasya didn't see her eyes. He was telling, with an important air, +just what had occurred. He liked the idea of such interesting things +happening.</p> + +<p>Vladimir Ivanovitch had gone to the office in the morning; then, after +half an hour, he had come home. He had gone into the study, and Vasya +had seen him going to the closet where he kept samples of dyes that +were being tested for their stability. Then Vasya was busy sweeping in +the courtyard. When he had finished and returned to the house, he heard +someone groaning in the study. He went in to see what was wrong. There +was Vladimir Ivanovitch lying on the sofa, only the whites of his eyes +showing, his mouth open and foaming. And then the fun began....</p> + +<p>Vasya had run for the doctor, who lived around the corner. He was just +eating. But Vasya told him how matters stood: "The man's dying, you can +eat later." Vasya had to make two hurried trips to the druggist in the +car. Ivan Ivanovitch came over. The whole house was turned upside down.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened without hearing a word. She herself was more dead than +alive. Nothing remained but Vladimir and his sufferings. They filled +her mind completely. If Volodya should die her life would be at an end, +too. There would be only emptiness, an emptiness more dreadful than the +grave.</p> + +<p>She entered the house with the boy. Ivan Ivanovitch was just taking the +doctor to the door.</p> + +<p>"Is he alive?"</p> + +<p>"We're doing everything possible. We won't be able to know anything +definite before the morning."</p> + +<p>She tiptoed into the bedroom. Vladimir's groans became more and more +distinct. She seemed to be moaning herself. Could Vladimir be detached +from her, from Vasya? The bedroom was changed, different. The rug was +rolled up, the bed had been moved. But the bed was empty. Where was +Volodya? Something big, white, long lay on the divan. Its face was a +bluish gray, its eyes were closed. The moaning stopped.</p> + +<p>What was that? Was he dead?</p> + +<p>"Volodya! Volodya!"</p> + +<p>The physician turned on her furiously.</p> + +<p>"Silence! No hysterics!"</p> + +<p>Assisted by a white-capped nurse, the doctor was busy with Vladimir. +Both looked grave and severe; they did not let Vasya come near Vladimir.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes and breathed more rapidly; he was alive!</p> + +<p>"Doctor," Vasya whispered pleadingly, "tell me the truth. Is there any +hope?"</p> + +<p>"There's always hope as long as the heart is beating," the doctor +answered angrily, as if she were asking silly questions.</p> + +<p>What did that mean? "As long as the heart is beating?" And suppose it +should stop?</p> + +<p>But she asked nothing more. The doctor was busy; he and the nurse were +raising Vladimir's head, pouring something into his mouth.</p> + +<p>Once more Vladimir began to moan. Short, plaintive cries. Vasya +listened. She no longer felt anything, but was absolutely numb, as if +grief had paralyzed her senses, as if her being had stopped.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Twilight, and darkness. The night-lamp burning in the bedroom. Other +physicians came, consulted. The errand-boy was rushed to the Health +Bureau for special medicine.</p> + +<p>Vasya was not permitted to see Vladimir; nor did he ask for her. He +seemed unconscious, occasionally uttered short, sobbing moans. She +thought that as he moaned his spirit was leaving him, that his soul was +struggling against his body; but the body refused to liberate the soul.</p> + +<p>Helplessly superfluous, Vasya walked among the physicians, knowing of +nothing she could do.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it struck her like a thunderbolt: there must be rumors afloat +in the city. People would say: A Communist—and a suicide! Why? And the +gossiping would begin. She would have to hurry, hurry, to forestall +gossip. She would have to think of something. What happened and why? An +inspiration: mushrooms! He had had mushrooms for breakfast, and now he +was near death. She remembered such a case in her grandmother's village +while she had visited there. A tailor, who had come from the city to +visit his brother, had gathered some mushrooms himself, had cooked +them, eaten them, and died.</p> + +<p>Vasya began to telephone. Michailo Pavlovitch came first. She would +tell him the details when she saw him; now she merely wanted to tell +him of the tragedy. Briefly, it was this: Vladimir Ivanovitch had +been poisoned by mushrooms, and lay on the point of death. Then she +telephoned the Chairman, and other Comrades.</p> + +<p>She had prompted Ivan Ivanovitch, who was explaining matters to the +members of the administration, advising the office. And very minutely +she told Vasya, the errand-boy, and Marya Semyonovna what they would +have to say. Vasya, keen and quick-witted, curled his lip, shrugged his +shoulders, and said nothing. Let it be so! It was all the same to him. +Marya Semyonovna, however, was offended, pressed her lips together and +folded her hands over her apron. She refused to agree to the mushroom +story.</p> + +<p>"How can a man be poisoned so badly by mushrooms? Everybody'll say: +'Why wasn't the cook more careful?'"</p> + +<p>But Vasya insisted. The story had been told to everybody: he had eaten +mushrooms, and they had made him ill.</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way! But it wasn't a very clever idea. If it had been +something else—but mushrooms! Who would cook bad mushrooms?"</p> + +<p>Vasya left the kitchen. Marya Semyonovna, however, couldn't regain her +composure, banged about furiously with the pots. "Here they make a mess +of things, get everything all mixed up, and now I'm to blame. First +they make a bed the devil himself couldn't sleep in, and now I have to +lie in it, if you please! Marya Semyonovna is responsible! I can't tell +the difference between good and bad mushrooms! How can they insult a +person like that? I've been in the kitchen for twenty years—there's +no other cook like me; I'm as good as a chef! You should see my pile +of references. Even the late Madame Gollolobova, the general's wife, +who always was so proud, never called me anything but Marya Semyonovna; +and the Pokatilovs, the millionaires, gave me a gold watch and chain +for Christmas because my sauces were so good. And now just look at +what they've thought up! 'Marya Semyonovna gave the manager poisonous +mushrooms!' I didn't think such an outrage was possible. Didn't I do +everything I could? I felt sorry for this Vassilissa, never breathed a +word to her about her husband's sweetheart. But that's how people are! +Nothing but injustice! And they're Communists...!"</p> + +<p>"Why are you angry, Marya Semyonovna? Why do you feel offended?" Vasya +spoke thoughtfully, eating his soup the while with great relish.</p> + +<p>"Does it make any difference what they tell us to say? The truth will +out. You won't be held responsible; they've invented the story about +the mushrooms only to keep down the scandal. But I like it. It's an +interesting business! There's passion for you! What are the movies +compared to this?"</p> + +<p>"And you're having a good time, you silly boy! A person's dying, and +you think it's fun! What has the world come to! Nobody cares about +life. The least little thing happens, and—bing, bang—they've shot the +fellow. That's why people don't really want to live any more. It's all +because they've forgotten God!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, forget about God yourself! I'm not a Communist, but I don't +believe in God, either."</p> + +<p>"And it's wrong of you not to believe. There he sits and chatters +without doing any work. Why don't you help me clear away the plates? +These fellows, these doctors use up so many dishes. They're forever +wanting tea and everything else. God's will be done. That's what I told +that dressed-up minx, the maid of Vladimir Ivanovitch's sweetheart. I +was just finished with serving supper for the doctors when she comes +running in by the back door, rustling her skirts, wearing a little +batiste apron, sporting a butterfly on her head, and wagging her tail. +'My lady sent me to find out how Vladimir Ivanovitch is getting on.' +'He's getting on so well,' I said, 'that I guess he'll be standing +before his God pretty soon, for God punishes everyone for his sins. +But as for your mistress, that hussy, just tell her she'd better go to +church and do penance. After all, she's the only one who's to blame.'"</p> + +<p>In Vassilissa's presence, Marya Semyonovna was very silent. But the +moment she found someone else to talk to there was no stopping the +torrent of her words.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The house grew still. People had come during the day: members of the +administration, fellow workers; the physicians had been consulting. +Lisa shared the night-watch with Vasya, so that she would not be alone +as she suffered and waited for the end. Lisa felt that she, too, was +partly responsible; for she had aroused Vasya against Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Lisa. I worked myself up against him. It took mortal +danger to make me realize that nothing in the world is dearer to me +than he. How can I live without him? His blood will be on my head."</p> + +<p>Her curly head supported on her hand, Vasya sat beside Vladimir's bed, +thinking. Suppose Volodya should die, so that she could no longer live +with him—what then? The Revolution? The Party? The Party could use +only those who had no crime on their conscience. But Vasya would never +be able to forget that she had killed Vladimir. If there had been +some good reason.... But because of a woman's jealousy. If he had had +crooked dealings with thieves like Savelyev, if he had acted against +the interests of the people, there would have been a reason. But to +make her friend die because of a woman! And such a friend! She had +thought he did not love her. But he must have loved her, since he had +gone to his death. So life without her meant nothing to him? In spite +of her sorrow this realization moved her to tears, to sweet, penitent +tears. Gazing at her beloved man, Vasya whispered tenderly: "Will you +forgive me, my darling? Will you be able to forget, my dear friend?"</p> + +<p>He stirred, moved his head restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Water.... Water...."</p> + +<p>Gently Vasya raised his head from the pillow, as the nurse had shown +her, and gave him water.</p> + +<p>Vladimir drank. His eyes opened and looked at her, but seemed not to +see her:</p> + +<p>"Do you feel better, Volodetchka?"</p> + +<p>She bent over him anxiously.</p> + +<p>He didn't answer. He opened his eyes and closed them again.</p> + +<p>"Is Ivan Ivanovitch here?" he asked feebly.</p> + +<p>"No, he's gone. Do you want him?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "Call him—phone him."</p> + +<p>"But the doctor forbade you to bother about business."</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked impatient and fretful.</p> + +<p>"Please don't torment me, now at least. Get him." His eyes closed.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt a dagger. Why had he said that? "Please don't torment me, +now at least!" So he had not forgiven her for causing him this mortal +agony.</p> + +<p>She summoned Ivan Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p>When he came, Vladimir asked Vasya to leave him alone with Ivan +Ivanovitch. She went into the garden.</p> + +<p>The red roses had withered away, but the dahlias were in full bloom. +The sun was blazing down on her hands, her shoulders, her head. It no +longer caressed her as in the spring, but burned painfully. The garden +was neglected, the honeysuckle vines entwined the lilac bushes like +ivy. The sky was not blue—the heat made it look like molten silver.</p> + +<p>Vasya walked over the baking ground.</p> + +<p>No. Vladimir wouldn't forgive her! He would not forget. If she had come +when he called her that morning, nothing would have happened. Now she +had lost him—lost him forever. Not her adored lover, but her friend, +her comrade. Volodya would not trust her any more, would not lean on +her again. Vasya was standing beside the acacia tree that had been so +full of white blossoms in the spring. She closed her eyes. Why hadn't +she poisoned herself? Why did she still live?</p> + +<p>"Vassilissa Dementyevna, Vladimir Ivanovitch wants you," Ivan +Ivanovitch called to her as he entered the car and went away.</p> + +<p>Where was he going? Was he taking a message to Vladimir's friend? But +Vasya no longer cared.</p> + +<p>The past would never return.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was hot. The scorching sun of summer was exhausting. The shades had +been lowered. Vladimir was sleeping; Vasya knelt at the foot of his +bed, driving away the flies.</p> + +<p>He had to sleep, to regain his strength. He had suffered enough.</p> + +<p>Vasya and Volodya were alone in the house; Marya Semyonovna had gone +shopping. Vasya, the boy, had been sent away.</p> + +<p>Vasya liked being alone with Volodya. She felt as if he belonged to +her, as if he were her property. He was so weak and helpless.</p> + +<p>If only he could understand, if only he could read her heart. He would +see how ardently she loved him, how she was suffering, how she longed +for his caresses, how her loneliness starved her. Why was Volodya +always so taciturn, so hostile toward her? He never looked into her +eyes. When she did not arrange the pillows quite properly he would say +irritably: "And that calls itself a nurse! She doesn't even know how to +fix the pillows."</p> + +<p>Of course, one can't expect much from a sick man; still—why was he +like that? Could he really not forgive her? Never? And if they stayed +together would it always be as now, lonely, dismal, bleak?</p> + +<p>She looked at Vladimir, at the dear, familiar face with its long +eye-lashes. Vasya had fallen in love with them at the very beginning. +And he had been captivated by her hair. But her hair was gone....</p> + +<p>It was like the old fairy-tale. Her hair had bewitched him; when it was +cut off her lover left her. How they had loved each other then, in '17. +And later, when the White offensive began. The night when, together, +they arrested the conspirators. "If I fall, Vasya, don't lose a single +hour of your work; your tears can wait till later." "And the same goes +for you, Volodya. We promise each other." They had held each other's +hands, had looked into each other's eyes, and had gone to their work, +without delay. It had been cold then, the stars had been shining, the +snow had creaked under their feet as Vasya and Vladimir had gone with +their men.</p> + +<p>At the memory Vasya's heart grew tender; as if the warmth radiating +from her lost happiness were melting it. Vasya had not wept when +the disaster had come upon her; she had not lamented, had forgotten +herself. But now the tears were running down her cheeks. Not bitter, +scalding tears, but gently sorrowful ones. She was weeping for the +happiness of long ago.</p> + +<p>"Vasya—why—Vasya!—what is it?"</p> + +<p>Volodya had raised his head from the pillows, and was looking at her. +His eyes were distant no longer, no longer seemed to look past her. +They weren't cold. They were "his" eyes, Volodya's loving, sympathetic +eyes, although their expression still was sad.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Vasyuk? Why are you crying, poor child?"</p> + +<p>He laid his hand on her curls lovingly.</p> + +<p>"Volodya, my darling. Will you forgive me? Will you forgive?"</p> + +<p>"Silly Vasya. What do you want me to forgive? Now, stop crying, so we +can talk. Sit down here, closer to me. Here we live our lives side by +side, saying nothing and suffering so."</p> + +<p>"But you must not get excited now—I'm afraid for you, dear. Some other +time."</p> + +<p>"No, it wouldn't go so well some other time. Let me talk, Vasya. I'm so +wretched. That's why I wanted to die. And even now, though I want to +live, I see no way out...."</p> + +<p>"We'll look for it together, Volodya. After all, I'm not a stranger to +you."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you know everything, Vasya?"'</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I know."</p> + +<p>"Now you understand what was hurting me? And you were always +reproaching me with silly things, forever harping on Savelyev."</p> + +<p>"I know, Volodya."</p> + +<p>"And you made another mistake. Did you think that was love? Did you? +No, Vasya, I love only you, you, my guardian angel, you, my faithful +friend. But there, Vasya, it's different, entirely different. Call it +whatever you want, call it lack of self-control, whatever you want, +only not love! But you were jealous of me, you suspected me, spied on +me."</p> + +<p>"Never, Volodya. Never."</p> + +<p>"How can you say that? Think of the blue silk! Think of your +cross-examinations: 'Why do you smell of perfume?' And 'Where does +Savelyev live? Show me!'"</p> + +<p>"I didn't spy on you, Volodya; no, I didn't. But I was imagining +all sorts of dreadful things. I wanted to drive away those fancies, +Volodya. I wanted to believe in you, to keep my faith in you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk about your fancies! You were jealous all the same. You +didn't say so openly, but you tormented me, tortured me. Why go over +all that? We're both to blame!"</p> + +<p>Silence. Both were thinking.</p> + +<p>"Is our life to go on like this, Volodya?" Vasya asked mournfully.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Vasya. I'm lost myself. I don't know what to do."</p> + +<p>Again both were silent. Both had much to say; but they could not reach +each other.</p> + +<p>"Might you not really be happier with the other girl, Volodya?" Vasya +asked cautiously. She was surprised that the question did not hurt her.</p> + +<p>"Vasya, Vasya! I see that you don't trust me. Can't you see whom I +love? Didn't I try to kill myself because I had lost you?" There was +reproach in both his voice and his eyes.</p> + +<p>Her heart was trembling with joy.</p> + +<p>"Volodya!"</p> + +<p>They embraced; their lips sought each other.</p> + +<p>"No, not like that, Vasya! Calm down, Vasyuk! My strength hasn't come +back yet, you see—I can't even kiss you...."</p> + +<p>Smiling, Vladimir patted Vasya's head; but his eyes were sad again. No; +the wall between them could not be broken down. They could not find the +path that led through the thorny hedge of misunderstanding from one +heart to the other.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Vladimir had returned to his work for the first time, had gone to the +office. Vasya was rejoicing in her freedom. In the morning she rushed +to the Party Committee, and thence to the hemp-binding works. Lisa was +asking for help, preparations had to be made for the meeting of the +union.</p> + +<p>On the way to the Party Committee Vasya smiled. She felt as though +she had escaped from a cage. Everything delighted her. She felt as if +she had not seen her Comrades for an incredibly long time; and they +were glad, too. They had missed her. Vasya was a general favorite. She +did so much, gossiped not at all, and sympathized with everybody's +troubles. The moment she reached Party headquarters she was given work +to do—she had to determine what was to be discussed at the meeting, +and to classify the material with the speakers.</p> + +<p>Vasya looked at the clock. Impossible! It was almost eight! Vladimir +must have waited for her impatiently. Had they given him a dinner +conforming with the doctor's orders? Vasya had forgotten all about it.</p> + +<p>She walked with Lisa, discussing the news that a Comrade of the Central +Administration had brought from Moscow. Many peculiar things were +happening in the Party these days. Lisa was in complete disagreement +with the new policy; she stood with the boys of the factory. They were +going to put up their own candidates at the Party Conference—there +would be another fight against the Chairman.</p> + +<p>Vasya envied her. Since her arrival she had taken no really active +part in anything, as if she were not a member of the Party, but only a +"sympathizer."</p> + +<p>"That's because you're a manager's wife. If you had been living by +yourself you would have come back to work very soon."</p> + +<p>Vasya sighed. Lisa didn't have to tell her that; she knew it herself. +But she had no time to think of such things. As soon as Vladimir should +have completely recovered she would go back to her province.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you won't go! You're much too fond of your Vladimir Ivanovitch. +You're only a wife nowadays," Lisa objected irritably.</p> + +<p>Vasya remained silent. What could she say? Lisa was right; but she did +not complain. She had gone through too much. Let Volodya only live, +live without suffering.</p> + +<p>When Vasya came home he was not there.</p> + +<p>"Where is Vladimir Ivanovitch? Hasn't he come back yet?"</p> + +<p>"Of course he came back. He was here from three o'clock, and waited for +you to come for dinner. But he couldn't wait so long. When you didn't +come he ate with Ivan Ivanovitch. They went away not long ago," Marya +Semyonovna told her. "But there's a note for you on the table."</p> + +<p>Vasya took it up.</p> + +<p>"Dear Vasya, we've agreed always to be frank with each other; and you +said you'd always understand me. I absolutely must be there today. I'll +tell you why later. Then you'll understand that I couldn't help it. I +beg you to stand by our agreement, and not to grieve. Your Volodya."</p> + +<p>When Vasya had read the note her hands dropped on her lap.</p> + +<p>Again? So it was not over. But why had she thought it was over? Had +Volodya ever said so? Hadn't she known that Ivan Ivanovitch was always +going back and forth, forming the connecting link between Vladimir +and the other woman? Volodya was honest, as she had begged him to +be. Frankness, only frankness! Why did it hurt so? Why did bitter +resentment and indignation rise in her heart, as if Volodya had +deceived her again?</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna was setting the table and looking disapprovingly at +Vasya.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to eat?" she asked. "Are you starting this business +all over again? Nobody eats, and a person is expected to cook! Then +there'll be more of your endless quarrels and tears. You may resent it +or not, Vassilissa Dementyevna, but I must tell you the truth; you're +not the woman for Vladimir Ivanovitch. Now you're broken-hearted over +his letter, and you're crying because he's gone to his mistress. But I +tell you that you're to blame, too. The man just rose up from the dead, +so to speak. He took poison on account of you. But the moment he walked +out the door you were gone yourself. If it were your work, it would be +different. Business demands its rights. But you just run around from +one meeting to another, enlightening our silly women. Why don't you +clean up your own house before you try to teach others? It's a disgrace +to work for you!"</p> + +<p>Banging the door, she disappeared into the kitchen. But after a few +minutes Marya Semyonovna returned, a little gentler, with a hot omelet +and a cup of cocoa.</p> + +<p>"Eat, Vassilissa Dementyevna, and stop thinking. You can't think of +everything, after all."</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna sat down at the table beside Vasya and recounted her +own experiences. Something of the sort had happened in the house of +the late Madame Gollolobova, the general's wife. All on account of the +French governess. But then the general and his wife were reconciled and +lived together very well until she died. What was more, they even were +happy.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened half-heartedly, but did not interrupt. She had come to +know Marya Semyonovna during Vladimir's illness. Marya Semyonovna +pitied Vasya, and recognized one of her own people in her. She hated +the specialists, the doctors, and the managers, thought them all +<i>burshuis</i>. But now Vasya had to listen to Marya Semyonovna's endless +stories of how the millionaire Pokatilovs had lived; and what the +general's wife used to like for dinner. They bored Vasya; but she +didn't want to hurt Marya Semyonovna's feelings. She was a kindly old +soul, though she seemed rather sulky at first glance.</p> + +<p>Her stories were particularly disagreeable to Vasya just now. She +wanted to weigh everything, to clear up matters in her own mind, to +think things over from beginning to end.</p> + +<p>"Thanks for the supper, Marya Semyonovna. Now I'll have to go to my +papers."</p> + +<p>"Is that all you ate? If I'd known that I wouldn't have cooked anything +for you. You'll kill yourself, Vassilissa Dementyevna; and the whole +business isn't worth that. For, to tell you the truth, I wouldn't give +a kopek for Vladimir Ivanovitch's sweetheart! She isn't worth your +little finger."</p> + +<p>Lisa had said the same thing.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that, Marya Semyonovna? She is supposed to be so very +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"What's beautiful in her? She's painted and powdered like a clown. She +isn't interested in anything but clothes, so that she can get more and +more out of the men."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her? Did you ever see her?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I know her. How often didn't she sleep here before you came, +the dressed-up hussy! She has all sorts of notions. She has to have hot +water at night, needs this, that, and the other. She pretends she's +a lady, and says she's been used to this life since she was a child. +But she's lying—she doesn't look like that. Real gentlefolk are more +polite. They always say 'Please' and 'Thank you' to the servants. But +this hussy can only give orders: 'Bring me this! Do that! Clear these +things away!'"</p> + +<p>"What's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Her name? Nina Constantinovna. I can't remember her last name. +Everybody in town calls her just Nina Constantinovna."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see her sometime," Vasya said thoughtfully, turning +Volodya's note in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Nothing could be simpler. She goes walking in the City Park every day +when the band plays. Let's go there tomorrow, and you can take a look +at the minx. In the old days that kind used to walk the streets of +Moscow at night."</p> + +<p>"When the music plays, you say? All right, Marya Semyonovna; let's go +there. Maybe I'll feel better after I've seen her."</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna shook her head doubtfully; but she made no attempt to +dissuade Vasya. She was anxious to see how the two rivals would look at +each other.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya went through the dark house. She didn't want any light; she felt +that the darkness soothed her. She could not sleep.</p> + +<p>In the morning everything seemed fine; Volodya was well and working +again, and she, too, was busy. For she would soon return to her +province. She didn't want to be the "manager's lady". Since she and +Vladimir had agreed always to be frank, she felt better. But the pain +was still there. It was not jealousy. Nor had Vladimir broken his word; +he had told the truth to Vasya as to a friend. Still, she did not feel +quite happy.</p> + +<p>She scolded herself: what in the world did she want? Surely she had not +thought that Vladimir had come back to her altogether, that he had torn +the other out of his heart. But that was just it. That was what Vasya +had thought, hoped for, longed for.</p> + +<p>And what was the upshot of it all? They had suffered so much, and had +progressed not an inch. Vladimir was again spending his evenings with +the other woman while Vasya wandered alone through the dark house. +He had no pity for her. Whom did he love? Her, Vasya, his friend and +comrade, or the other? He said he loved Vasya; but it wasn't true. +These thoughts only increased her suffering. If she knew that he had +stopped loving her she would go away. But as matters stood, how could +she go? Suppose she was mistaken. Suppose he should attempt suicide +again. Vasya could not leave Vladimir. How could she live far away +from him with this agony in her heart? It was more bearable when he was +there.</p> + +<p>Come what might, she loved Vladimir. If she didn't love him could she +suffer such torment because of him?</p> + +<p>She loved him: but she understood him less every day. As if they had +entered a forest by two divergent paths. The farther they penetrated +into the forest the greater the distance between them. She loved +Volodya; but in her heart she condemned him more and more. Why had he +had anything to do with such a creature? If it had been one of her +own people, a Communist girl, she would not have felt so hurt. But +this was a real <i>burshuika</i>. Volodya himself had told Vasya that she +was a stranger, a young lady of the aristocracy. Spoiled. She could +not understand the Bolsheviki and the Communists, but longed for her +old life. She had been brought up in luxury. There had been seventeen +servants in her home. She had had a horse of her own, accustomed to +the side-saddle. Her father had been a White soldier. Her mother had +died during the Revolution. Her brother, an officer, had been reported +missing. Only she was left. She had looked for work. As she knew +many languages she was taken on in the administrative offices as a +secretary. Volodya met her there; she fell in love with him, wrote him +letters.</p> + +<p>Vasya was far away, Volodya was always alone. So their affair began. +It was soon noticed in the office; Nina Constantinovna was frowned +upon, and had to give up her position. Savelyev made her his secretary.</p> + +<p>"Only his secretary?" Vasya couldn't hold back the question. For one +thing, she wanted to irritate Vladimir; besides, she wanted to learn +the truth about the other.</p> + +<p>"What sort of gossip are your repeating there?" Vladimir flared up. +"Aren't you ashamed to say such vile things? I didn't think you would +sling mud at her, like any other woman. Why, Vasya? It doesn't become +you!"</p> + +<p>He told Vasya that Savelyev was a sort of father, or guardian, to Nina +Constantinovna. He had known her parents; and when Nina stood alone in +the world he took care of her, gave her advice and material assistance, +procured the position in the administrative office for her. Then, +when she left, he helped her again. She had to vacate her room. Where +could she go? To Vladimir? That couldn't be done. Savelyev offered to +take her into his house. But Nina Constantinovna didn't want that. Was +she to be left on the street? Savelyev found a small house where he +arranged to have his office, and offered Nina a home there. "For he is +something like a guardian of hers. He feels sorry for her, takes care +of her...."</p> + +<p>"And makes love to her!" Again Vasya could not control herself. She +was angry; Volodya spoke too favorably of her. He always had been a +trusting soul. Vasya, however, was suspicious of the girl. Everybody +said she was a regular one....</p> + +<p>"It's a lie, a slanderous lie! Why do you find pleasure in repeating +such filth? If you want to know the truth, ask me. Nina thinks of no +one. Nina loves only me. And even if it were true, Savelyev would not +be the only one to make love to her. Do you know Maklezov, of the +Foreign Trade Office? He offered her a life of luxury, but Nina showed +him the door. I won't deny that Savelyev may like Nina. Maybe his love +for her isn't purely paternal. But Nina can't stand him—as a man, that +is. There's nothing doing there. It's not to be thought of. I know +Nina, you can be sure of that."</p> + +<p>She saw that he was growing quite excited, as if he wanted to convince +not Vasya, but himself. But what hurt her most was Savelyev's +connection with everything. She had disliked him from the first day. +There had been a reason for the S. C. telling her that Vladimir +Ivanovitch ought to keep away from him.</p> + +<p>"But I don't see why Savelyev has to be mixed up with it. That's why +they say that you keep her together, share and share alike."</p> + +<p>"If anyone dares say that to you, spit in his face! You must understand +me, Vasya. That's the terrible part of it, that Nina was a virgin when +I took her. She was pure...."</p> + +<p>"Pure?"</p> + +<p>Vasya felt a stab in her heart, as if a fine needle were piercing it. +Long ago, in '17, at that evening tea in Vasya's room, he had said:</p> + +<p>"I'm keeping my heart for a pure girl." And then, that first night, he +had caressed her and said: "No one in the world can be purer than you."</p> + +<p>"Pure? What nonsense are you talking there, Vladimir? What has the body +to do with purity? You're beginning to think like a <i>burshui</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Try to understand me, Vasya. I don't think so, but she does. It's a +great tragedy for her that I took her without marrying her. Now, she +thinks, she's 'lost.' You can't know what she suffers. She cries all +the time. Try to understand, Vasya. She thinks differently than we +proletarians do. The first man who has her has to marry her, too."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me that before? Who's preventing you from marrying +her? I?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vasya, Vasya. You're so clever—but when it comes to love +you're a woman, like all the rest. How can I marry her, Vasya? We're +strangers—we're different in every respect. It's not love. It's rather +pity. You can see it yourself."</p> + +<p>Only pity? Really? She wanted to believe it was only pity.</p> + +<p>"If you don't love or understand each other, why don't you separate? +It's tormenting both of you!" Vasya didn't mention herself.</p> + +<p>"How can I leave her? It's not such a simple matter, Vasya. Where can +she go if I leave her? On the street? Should Savelyev keep her? Or +should she register as a prostitute?"</p> + +<p>"Why all this fuss? Let her look for work!"</p> + +<p>"Work! That's more easily said than done nowadays, when everybody's +laying off. Besides, what sort of work? After all, Nina can't go into a +factory!"</p> + +<p>Vasya wanted to say: Why not into a factory? Why not, that hussy? But +she wanted to spare Vladimir. He was not yet well, and the doctor had +ordered him to avoid all excitement. He was already visibly affected by +their conversation.</p> + +<p>Later, as she roamed through the dark house, Vasya was sorry. Why +hadn't she cried out the truth? Why hadn't she told Vladimir everything +she thought of the woman? She didn't believe that Nina Constantinovna +loved him. She was merely ensnaring him, to gain a double advantage. +Vasya hated her, not because she was reputed to be of loose character, +but because her heart was not pure. Plenty of prostitutes were better +than the so-called decent women. Vasya remembered the curly-haired +Sinka, who had been shot by the Whites, and who cried, as she died: +"Long live the Soviet Government! Long live the Revolution!" She had +been on the streets, the lowest of the low; but when the Revolution +broke out she revealed herself, undertook the most difficult and most +dangerous tasks. She had worked in the Cheka with all her heart and +soul. Vasya could have understood Vladimir's falling in love with a +woman like that. But this "lady," this <i>burshuika</i>! She was a stranger, +after all. And she had no heart, she was simply fooling Vladimir. He, +trusting soul, believed in her. That was what hurt so badly. Vasya +would never be able to reconcile herself to that.</p> + +<p>What was her hold on him? His pity for her? I'm so weak, so helpless! +He said she had been pure! Pure! But now there remained not the tiniest +trace of that purity. She had exchanged it long ago for presents from +men. He, however, still believed in her. Vasya was furious at the other +woman.</p> + +<p>"How long are you going to run around the house this way, Vassilissa +Dementyevna?" grumbled Marya Semyonovna, breaking Vasya's train of +thought. "You ought to take care of yourself; you need your strength +for your meetings. Why don't you try to sleep? There's no sense in your +staying up for your husband. You won't want to have him in your room +anyway, when he comes from the other one. I'll make his bed in the +drawing room."</p> + +<p>Vasya threw her arms about Marya Semyonovna. But she felt even more +sad. A stranger was sorry for her. But he, her lover, her husband, her +friend, pitied only the other, the heartless, wily woman who wound +herself about him like a serpent.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>"Are you asleep, Vasyuk?" Coming into the bedroom, Vladimir lit the +lamp. Vasya lay in bed, her eyes wide open. How could she sleep with +this agony in her heart?</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not asleep."</p> + +<p>"Is Vasyuk angry with me?"</p> + +<p>He sat down on the bed and tried to kiss Vasya. She pushed him away +vehemently.</p> + +<p>"So you are angry with me. What about our agreement? I told you the +truth as I would a friend. You asked me to, yourself. And now...? Is it +better to lie?"</p> + +<p>Vasya did not answer.</p> + +<p>"It's not good for us, darling, to begin our squabbles and reproaches +all over again. Why are you angry? Because I visited Nina? Just think +it over, Vasya. I was together with you all the time; and she is alone. +Do you think she didn't worry and suffer enough when I was ill?"</p> + +<p>Vasya wanted to scream: "What has that to do with me?" But she pressed +her lips together. She said nothing; only her heart was beating +furiously.</p> + +<p>"You must not think that anything happened, Vasyuk. I wasn't alone +with her. Savelyev was there, too, and Ivan Ivanovitch came in. We had +something to discuss. Would you like to know why I was there today? +Well, Vasya—I went there to say good-bye. Why do you stare so? Don't +you believe me? Ask Ivan Ivanovitch. That's why I had him come here, +so that he would arrange everything. Help Nina Constantinova to get +away from here, pay her rent, and all the rest of it."</p> + +<p>"Where is she going?" Vasya's voice sounded hollow.</p> + +<p>"To Moscow. Savelyev will take her there; he has relatives there, with +whom Nina will live. And she will look for a position. It'll be easier +for all of us that way."</p> + +<p>Vasya remained silent. There was suspicion in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Why the sudden change? What had happened? Didn't he love her any more?</p> + +<p>"Let's not talk about love. That's quite another question. But Nina, +too, understands that things can't go on this way. She's fully made up +her mind to go to Moscow; she decided that long ago. She told me she +would go the morning you went away from me. She telephoned me, and said +she would not go on with this life. Either the one thing or the other. +Or she would go to Moscow...."</p> + +<p>"Ah, so that's it. That's why you took poison! One woman had gone, +and the other was threatening to leave if you didn't marry her. Now I +see it all. You were afraid you'd lose her! What a fool I am. What a +silly fool. I thought it was because of me that you were despondent and +wanted to die." Vasya laughed bitterly, hysterically.</p> + +<p>"How you twist everything, Vasya. How spiteful you've become. You're +not the Vasyuk you used to be," Vladimir said sadly, getting up from +the bed. "There's really no sense in our talking. I wanted to tell you +everything, so there would be no secrets between us. But now I see +that the more truthful I am the worse matters become. You've become +different, cruel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Stop, Volodya!" Vasya's voice was like breaking glass, +quivered with all the despair of her heart. "If we're going to talk +things over, let's do it. Why do you send her to Moscow? You love her, +not me. If you loved me you would have stayed with me today. But you +consider only her, you pity only her."</p> + +<p>"Vasya, Vasya. How unjust you are. If you only knew what Nina has gone +through in these months. She is so young—almost a child. She hasn't +a single close friend. Everybody slings mud at her. And why, Vasya? +Because she had the misfortune of falling in love with me. You, Vasya, +have your Party, your friends. But she has only me. I'm her only +protector, her only supporter."</p> + +<p>Walking up and down the room, his hand on his back, Vladimir told Vasya +that Nina had expected a child. His child—his dream! So much joy, and +so much sorrow.</p> + +<p>"Where is the child?" Vasya asked, trembling.</p> + +<p>"You surely don't think Nina could have kept it! The scandal! And how +you would have suffered! We thought of you. Nina cried her heart out. +But for your sake, Vasya, we decided to do even that."</p> + +<p>For her sake? He had discussed it with a strange woman, had "thought of +her" with a strange woman, of her, Vasya, as if she were not his friend +and comrade, but some enemy. He had not come to her with his troubles, +but to the other, to Nina. So she was nearer to him—she, not Vasya, +belonged with him now.</p> + +<p>"The day you came I found out that Nina was pregnant. Now you know what +was tormenting me, Vasya."</p> + +<p>She nodded silently.</p> + +<p>Vladimir went on, telling her that Nina had gone to another city, to +prevent gossip. Savelyev had found a place for her to live there. And +she had had her abortion there. But the operation had not gone off +smoothly. There had been complications. Vladimir had gone to see her.</p> + +<p>"Was that when the shipping clerks were going to strike?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, about that time."</p> + +<p>Hm.... So that was why he had wept in the dining room that day. On +account of Nina. Not because of the shipping clerks, of course.</p> + +<p>"And she came back the morning Savelyev arrived, didn't she?" Vasya +went on.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>Neither spoke; both waited. Now the hard, cruel words would come again. +Later they would regret them; but they could not be taken back. They +distorted love, mutilating it until it was like a pock-marked face. No +more beauty, no more heart-warming happiness.</p> + +<p>"Vasya!" Vladimir broke the oppressive silence. "Why all this +heartache? Who's to blame? I swear to you, I spared you, spared you as +long as I could."</p> + +<p>"That wasn't necessary, Volodya. I only wanted you to believe that I'm +your friend."</p> + +<p>Sitting down again beside her, Vladimir took her hand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Vasya, I know you're my friend. That's why it's so hard for me." +He laid his head on Vasya's shoulder, as he had always used to do. +Stroking that head, Vasya felt a sweet joy tempering her pain. In spite +of everything he was there, with her! He still loved her, in his way.</p> + +<p>"Mightn't it be better, Volodya, if I go away, and she stays?" she +asked cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Don't start with that again, Vasya. Don't torture me. Instead of +helping me you drive me off the right path. I've revealed my soul to +you as to a friend. I'm keeping no secrets from you. And here you say +you want to go away."</p> + +<p>"For your sake, Volodya; if you love her."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by love, Vasya? Love must be returned; and I feel it +so clearly, that Nina and I have nothing in common, that she isn't +a comrade, that she can never be a friend like you to me. I'm sorry +for her, I take care of her. What would become of her if I were to +leave her, if we were to part? I feel responsible for her. Can't you +understand? After all, she was a virgin when I took her."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, Volodya. Why are you responsible for her? She wasn't +a child; she must have known what she was doing. Besides, who bothers +about such things nowadays?"</p> + +<p>"You have proletarian ideas; but Nina is different. It's a real tragedy +for her."</p> + +<p>"I know. That's why I say I'll go away, and you should marry her."</p> + +<p>"There you go again, Vasya! Didn't I beg you not to torment me? Besides +it's too late. Everything's been decided. Nina Constantinovna goes to +Moscow Thursday. That's all there's to it! Let's stop talking about it."</p> + +<p>Vladimir spoke so calmly, with so much assurance, that she had to +believe him.</p> + +<p>"But you be patient, Vasya, for another few days. Don't do anything +rash. She'll go away, and we'll live as before. No, it'll be better +than ever before. Now we have suffered together, and that'll bring us +closer to each other."</p> + +<p>Volodya put his arms around Vasya, and kissed her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to sleep with you tonight, Vasyuk. Do you mind? I'm so tired, +my head's reeling."</p> + +<p>Lying down, he laid his head on Vasya's shoulder, and fell asleep at +once.</p> + +<p>Vasya, however, did not sleep. If he loved her, he would have caressed +her. If he loved her, he would have understood her grief. She gazed +at him. That familiar head, hiding such strange, incomprehensible +thoughts. Those long lashes, veiling tender glances not meant for her. +Those warm lips, covering another woman with yearning kisses, arousing +her passion.</p> + +<p>She pushed Voldya's head from her shoulder. He was a stranger to her!</p> + +<p>"Why do you drive your precious Volya away?" Vladimir whispered in his +sleep.</p> + +<p>"Your precious Volya?" Whose pet name was that? Not Vasya's. He had +confused them. He thought of the other even in his sleep.</p> + +<p>Vasya scowled at her sleeping husband. Was that her lover? Had he once +been her friend and comrade? Was he the man whom she had loved when, +together, they had fought for the Soviet?</p> + +<p>He was a stranger. A stranger.</p> + +<p>She shivered. She was so lonely.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The Park. Dusty, withered by the oppressive heat of the summer. The +long and anxiously awaited rain did not come; it would have washed the +dust of the city from the trees, would have quenched the thirst of the +grass.</p> + +<p>The band was playing before a small audience. Children were running +about; a few Red Guards were there, sitting in groups, or walking along +with their sweethearts. On a shady bench sat a priest in a monk's gown, +leaning on his staff, lost in thought. Beside him was a nursemaid, +watching a little child.</p> + +<p>Vasya and Marya Semyonovna sat down on the bench; although they were a +trifle to one side they could see everything.</p> + +<p>They waited for Nina Constantinovna.</p> + +<p>"Why hasn't our little lady come yet? Generally she's here the moment +the music begins, to show off her clothes. All the fine ladies +come here to see what's stylish this year. They find out from Nina +Constantinovna, because she's always dressed up to the minute."</p> + +<p>Vasya listened absent-mindedly. She was eager to see Nina. How would +she be? At the same time she was afraid. How could she bear to look at +her?</p> + +<p>"Is that she, Marya Semyonovna? On that bench there, to the right of +the band? The one in the pink dress?"</p> + +<p>"How in the world could you think that? Nina Constantinova isn't like +that. You'll see the difference between her and the others right away. +She's a real fashionable lady."</p> + +<p>They sat there, waiting. But Nina did not come. Only when they were +about to go home, intending to return the next day, did she appear. She +was coming from the other end of the park, and stopped before the band. +She was talking to Savelyev and two members of the Red Committee, and +seemed unconscious of the eyes that stared at her.</p> + +<p>So this was how she looked! She was wearing a thin white dress that +enveloped her body in soft folds, and revealed the curve of her +breasts. She had on long sand-colored gloves and a hat to match, pulled +down over her eyes. Vasya could not distinguish the features, but saw +only the lips, shining red as blood.</p> + +<p>"What red, red lips!"</p> + +<p>"That's the rouge," explained Marya Semyonovna. "You should see her +eyes. They look as if she'd smeared soot over them. Somebody ought to +take a sponge and wash the dirt off her face. And then you ought to +look at her! I could be beautiful too, if I used powder and rouge."</p> + +<p>Nina Constantinovna was leaning on her white parasol, tapping the +ground with the point of her white shoes. She laughed, throwing back +her head a little. The members of the Red Committee laughed too.</p> + +<p>Apparently bored, Savelyev had stepped to one side, and was tracing +figures in the sand with his cane.</p> + +<p>"Her hat hides her whole face," Vasya complained.</p> + +<p>"Come, let's walk past her. Then you can get a better look at the +hussy. But I advise you not to look her way. She isn't pretty. When I +was working for Madame Gollolobova, that's when I saw real fine ladies +and real beauties. Compared to them, she's nothing!"</p> + +<p>But Vasya's curiosity bothered her. She had to know why Volodya loved +the other girl.</p> + +<p>Just as Vasya and Marya Semyonovna were getting up to walk past Nina, +she said good-bye to the members of the Red Committee, exclaiming +loudly enough for Vasya to hear: "We'll meet again in Moscow." Turning +she went on toward the gate, Savelyev following.</p> + +<p>"You surely don't want to run after her? You mustn't do that, +Vassilissa Dementyevna. You'll have to let her go, that bird. People +know you—and that's no way of stopping gossip."</p> + +<p>Though she slackened her pace, Vasya kept her eyes fixed on the other.</p> + +<p>She was tall, slender; her shoulders swayed a little as she walked. Her +head was bowed as she went away from the bandstand. Vasya thought Nina +was crying. Savelyev bent toward her, seemed to be trying to persuade +her. But Nina shook her head. No, she said, raising her tan-gloved hand +to her face, as if to wipe away a tear. Could she weep? Had she come +to bid the music farewell? Or—or did she love Volodya? Was she not +merely trying to get something from him? Vasya was disturbed. She felt +no better now that she had seen Nina Constantinovna. It was no longer +jealousy that bothered her, but another, new feeling. Something like +pity for Nina. Why had she cried? Why had she come to hear the music? +To bid her happiness good-bye?</p> + +<p>A new load on Vasya's heart. She was furious at herself. That was all +that was needed! To suffer with the other woman, with the one who had +got in her way. A fine state of affairs.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Nina had gone to Moscow. Almost two weeks had passed since she and +Savelyev had left the city. Logically, Vasya should have enjoyed life +now. The interloper was gone. Vladimir had stayed behind with Vasya; so +she surely was dearer, more precious to him, and the other affair was +merely temporary?</p> + +<p>Vasya smiled. Vasya laughed. She coughed less and visited the Party +Committee regularly. Vladimir was working, too; he was reorganizing +the business according to the plans of the syndicate people. When that +would be finished he and Vasya would go to Moscow, whence he was to be +transferred to his new district. Vladimir was happy, entirely taken up +with his work.</p> + +<p>But the real, heart-felt joy of other days was lacking. There was +nothing to be done about it. Vladimir was not exactly cool; but he had +changed. Frequently he would be moody, would lose his temper.</p> + +<p>Why did Vasya come home so late from the Party Committee? It was +annoying for their guests, for they would not have dinner without the +hostess. Again, he would flare up about the collars: not a single one +was clean. Then Vasya, too, would be cross. She wasn't responsible for +that; let him take care of it himself. Let him go to Marya Semyonovna. +Vasya was no laundress. Both would be furious when they parted—and +why? On account of a stupid collar! One day Vasya came home in the +rain. To save her hat, she had left it at Party Headquarters, and had +put a shawl on her head. When he saw her Vladimir frowned, and snarled: +"How you dress! Your shoes are run down at the heels, your skirt is +filthy, you come in with a shawl on your head like a peasant woman. +Slovenly!"</p> + +<p>Again she lost control of herself.</p> + +<p>"We can't all strut around like fashion plates. But I don't have to +accept any favors from Savelyev."</p> + +<p>Vladimir looked daggers at her; he said nothing. Vasya thought he would +strike her.</p> + +<p>But he restrained himself.</p> + +<p>Something was wrong here. Vasya and Vladimir wanted to be friends; +but the slightest provocation filled them with hatred for each other. +Vladimir was always dreaming of his new position. How he could furnish +the house, how he could arrange everything.</p> + +<p>This was boring for Vasya. Why furnish a house? What was the pleasure +in that? It would be different if it had anything to do with the +common good. Vladimir disagreed with her, reproached her with +narrow-mindedness.</p> + +<p>Vasya told of a dispute in the Marxists' Club on whether history was +determined by economic questions alone or by ideas also. She grew +animated, wanted Vladimir to hear everything that had been said. But +he was bored. All this was empty talk. Increasing the profits of his +enterprise—there was something worth doing! And they quarreled again.</p> + +<p>When the two of them were alone together they had nothing to talk +about. What could they do? They telephoned Ivan Ivanovitch. His +presence made them feel more at ease.</p> + +<p>Vasya was expecting letters from her province. But none came. Neither +Grusha nor Stepan Alexeyevitch wrote a line. What could be the matter?</p> + +<p>Although Vasya did not want to admit it even to herself, she suspected, +deep down in her heart, that she would be called back to her province +to work. Should she go? Should she stay?</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A registered letter from home. From Stepan Alexeyevitch. Short, and to +the point. He proposed that Vasya take over the group of the textile +factories, and organize the work there in a new way, as the Central +Administration would prescribe. Vasya would live there, not in the +city. He asked for an answer.</p> + +<p>Vasya's heart pounded. She longed for her own people. For what was her +life here? No work, no joy, only one worry: if only nothing happens! +She seemed to be bound hand and foot. She remembered a jackdaw her +brother Kolyka had owned. He had caught it in the woods, and had bound +its wings so that it couldn't fly away. The bird hopped about on the +floor, opened its beak, and turned its bright black eyes toward the +window. It tried to flap its wings, but they were bound fast. It tried +again, a third time, cawed with distress and—resumed its solemn +walk on the floor as if it had never attempted to fly. This was what +was happening to Vasya now. Her wings were bound, too, and it was +impossible for her to fly. But what was binding her wings? Joy, or +love? No; neither of these. She was fettered by apprehension, by the +fear that again something might happen to Vladimir. By her gratitude +to him for staying with her, for sending away the 'hussy.' Slender +threads. But they were bound tightly about Vasya. She seemed hopelessly +entangled in the net.</p> + +<p>Lisa said: "I don't understand you, Vassilissa. I tell you, you're +becoming a real 'manager's lady.' You can't get away from it."</p> + +<p>How could she break these threads, tear the net?</p> + +<p>Vasya held Stepan Alexeyevitch's letter in her hand. She felt loath to +put it away. It seemed to be a talisman that would help her find her +way, as in the fairy-tale.</p> + +<p>"Vassilissa Dementyevna, the beer is all gone. You'll have to tell +Vladimir Ivanovitch to have some more sent out from the factory. +Otherwise we'll get unexpected guests for dinner and we won't know +where to get it from. You can't make it out of the air."</p> + +<p>Marya Semyonovna looked disapprovingly at Vasya.</p> + +<p>"You're always glum, Vassilissa Dementyevna. And why, if I might ask? +That dressed-up minx has finally landed in Moscow, thank God, and +Vladimir Ivanovitch is with you now, never goes out anywhere. Why do +you sulk so? The men don't like that. They want their wives to be +jolly, want to hear them laugh, want to have some pleasure at home +after the day's work and worries."</p> + +<p>As she listened, Vasya smiled and thought: Perhaps she's right. Perhaps +I ought to rouse myself and again become the tomboy Vasya of '18. +There was a lot of work in those days, but a lot of laughter, too.</p> + +<p>Should she go to see Volodya in the office? An unexpected visitor? Tell +him about the letter—and, laughingly, say that she would refuse, that +she could not leave her Volodya! He would see how she loved him. He +would be glad, would put his arms around her joyfully, would kiss her +brown eyes. He would call her Vasya, his tomboy.</p> + +<p>She chose a white blouse and put on a blue tie. She stood before the +mirror as she put on her hat and arranged her curls. She wanted to +please Volodya today. For she was bringing him a gift—a priceless +gift! Her refusal of Stepan Alexeyevitch's offer! She would go with +Vladimir to his new position, and would undertake some work there.</p> + +<p>When she reached the administration building Vasya went to the +manager's office. It was empty. The manager was at a conference. But it +would soon be over; he would probably be back in about ten minutes.</p> + +<p>Vasya waited, looked through the Moscow papers. She had to smile at +herself. Now she would make up to Volodya for everything—for his +parting from the other, for his greater devotion to herself.</p> + +<p>Someone brought in the mail, laid it on the manager's desk. Might there +not be some letters for Vasya? She looked over the business envelopes. +There—suddenly her heart throbbed wildly, then seemed to miss a beat. +A narrow, tinted envelope—a delicate handwriting, as though engraved. +That could only be the other woman: Nina Constantinovna.</p> + +<p>Everything was not over? Everything was as before? Lies? Vasya felt as +though she were flying, soaring—long, long, endlessly.</p> + +<p>She must have lost her balance, for she knocked down the ashtray that +stood on the desk.</p> + +<p>As she looked at the narrow, tinted envelope, Vasya felt that it +contained her destiny. There! It disappeared in her pocket. Now she +would learn the truth. Now there would be an end to the lies.</p> + +<p>Vladimir entered together with a member of the administration.</p> + +<p>"You're here, Vasya? Did you want something, or are you just visiting +me?"</p> + +<p>"There's no more beer. You'll have to order more from the factory."</p> + +<p>"Will you look at that! You're becoming a housewife! I can't recognize +my tomboy, Vasya," laughed Vladimir, quite happily.</p> + +<p>Laugh. Just you laugh. But I'll tear through the net in which you have +caught me. I'll go to the root of this deception.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble, Vasya? Can't you stay longer? Must you go?"</p> + +<p>She nodded silently. She was trembling with a fury that might break +loose any moment.</p> + +<p>She could not wait until she got home to read the letter. Going to the +City Park, she sat down on a bench and impatiently tore open the tinted +envelope.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"My precious Volya! My king, my beloved tormenter! Again, not a +word from you. The third day without a line. Can you have forgotten +me—don't you love your capricious Nina any more? Your little Egyptian +monkey? I don't believe it! I don't believe it! But it's terrible, +nevertheless. You're with her, and I'm all alone! Your 'mentor' will +be able to change you, she'll convince you that our love is a 'sin +against Communism', that you must fast Communistically, give up +everything that might delight you, and live only for the fanatics. +I'm afraid of her. I know the power she has over you. But, my God! +I'm not taking anything from her. I want so little. After all, she's +recognized as your wife. You're with her always, all the time. And +I'm begging only for a few hours for our love. I only beg you to pity +me—I have only you, no one else in all this world!</p> + +<p>"I wake up at night, trembling: he doesn't love me any more; he's +going to leave me. What will become of me then? I'm afraid to think of +it. You know that Nikanor Platonovitch is lying in wait for me like a +spider. Of course he still plays that fatherly rôle—but we know what +he's hoping for. He's waiting anxiously for the day when you'll leave +me, when I'll be alone, with no one to protect or help me. That'll be +a holiday for him. There are times when I hate him, when I'd rather +go on the street than be obliged to him in any way. Volya! Volya! My +beloved, my madly adored lover! Will there never be an end to this? +Will you never rescue your Ninyka? Have you no pity for her? Don't you +want to protect her?</p> + +<p>"I'm crying, Volya. You have no pity for your little monkey. You never +think of her, you cruel, faithless man. You're caressing another +woman. You love her. I know you love her! And that hurts. Very, very +badly.</p> + +<p>"I want you, your ardent, insatiable love! Don't you long for my lips? +For my embraces? My satiny arms want to enfold you—my breasts yearn +for your caresses....</p> + +<p>"I can't bear it, Volya! I can't be away from you any longer. Why did +you send me to Moscow? Why?</p> + +<p>"But this will have to be our last separation. In your new district +you'll have to find a little house for me outside the town. Nobody'll +know that I live there. 'The mysterious little house', where you will +go at twilight. And there I'll teach you that a love like ours is +better and more important than anything else in the world. When are +you coming to Moscow? Is she really coming here with you? If only we +could have a week together, to make up for this! A week for us only.</p> + +<p>"Nikanor Platonovitch says that in the new district you'll have a +splendid house for yourself. With a Gothic dining room. But there's +no dining room lamp. I've seen a marvelous chandelier here—a bit +expensive, but really artistic. I know you'll like it.</p> + +<p>"Now I've told you enough. Such a long letter. You won't be able to +hide it. Here I'm joking; but I really want to cry. Can't you feel how +I suffer? Why, oh why, doesn't life let us have a little happiness? +But don't be alarmed. I won't complain any more. After all I've gone +through I've gained a little sense. You do whatever you think is +right, and I'll be satisfied with everything. Let me have only one +thing—your passionate tenderness, your loving pity for your poor, +miserable, capricious Nina.</p> + +<p>"Moscow, Ostoshenka 18, Number 7, and not 17 as you wrote last time; +the letter almost got lost on account of that.</p> + +<p>"I'm yours, from my feet to my lips—only your darling sweetheart.</p> + +<p class="ph2">"Nina."</p> +</div> + +<p>And, in the margin: "Imagine how delighted I was to find Coty's +l'Origan powder in Moscow."</p> + +<p>Vasya read Nina's letter slowly, carefully, word for word. Not only +with her eyes, but with her heart.</p> + +<p>When she had finished she dropped the letter on her knees, looked at +the dry, dusty grass, listened to the angry humming of a bee; it flew +about busily among the blades, rose into the air, disappointed, and +descended into the grass again. In the spring, when the lilac was +blooming, there had been bees, too. But those had been different, +happy bees; this one was angry, as if the summer had played it false.</p> + +<p>Vasya thought she was thinking of the bee, and not of the letter. Her +heart was numb, seemed not to ache, seemed indifferent to everything. +"Satiny arms," "passionate tenderness!" It hurt her so! Slowly, +painstakingly, Vasya folded the letter, put it back into the envelope.</p> + +<p>Getting up, she walked toward the gate, past the bandstand. The park +was silent and empty today. No music. Now Vasya knew whom Vladimir +loved, knew that not she, but the other, belonged to him.</p> + +<p>Vasya stepped through the gate of the dusty City Park into the noisy +street. She felt as if she had left a grave behind her in the park. She +was going home from a funeral. The burial of her dead happiness.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Vladimir had come home earlier than usual. He was smiling with delight, +for he had good news: the long-expected summons of the Central +Administration, his appointment to the new post, had reached him. He +would have to go to Moscow at once.</p> + +<p>"To Moscow? All right, go ahead. I'm going away too, but not to Moscow. +I'm going home, to my province."</p> + +<p>On the surface Vasya was calm as she spoke. The narrow, tinted envelope +was in her pocket—the letter from Nina.</p> + +<p>Vladimir didn't notice the weariness in Vasya's face. He didn't see the +angry light that flashed in her brown eyes. Nor did he wonder why Vasya +was putting her things in order, why she was packing.</p> + +<p>"You want to visit your friends? All right. Will we meet in Moscow, or +will you go directly to the new district?"</p> + +<p>Vasya's heart had had one last hope: he would object, wouldn't let her +go. Now that, too, was over.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to the new place with you. I've been called back +to work. And I'm going to stay there. Not for a little while, +but forever. I've had enough of my rest in this prison. I'm tired +of playing the manager's lady. You can take a wife who is able to +appreciate this sort of life."</p> + +<p>Something seemed to have given way in Vasya. A torrent of words poured +from her mouth. She spoke so quickly she had to interrupt herself. She +wouldn't let herself be deceived any more. She was glad their love had +come to an end. It had been an ordeal for her, to be without work among +these syndicate people, these <i>burshuis</i>! She had stood it only for +Vladimir's sake; and she was hurt because he no longer needed her. He +was using her only as a housekeeper, and as a cloak: "Why, my wife is a +Communist." But it was the other woman who would give him pleasure and +love "in the mysterious little house". A shrewd plan! There was only +one thing Vladimir and Nina had forgotten: whether she, Vasya, would +agree to lead this disgusting life!</p> + +<p>Her eyes were green, spiteful. She had to pause for lack of breath.</p> + +<p>Vladimir shook his head in amazement. "Is that you, Vasya? I don't +recognize you! If I ever kept anything from you it was only for your +sake."</p> + +<p>"Thanks! I don't need your pity. I'm strong. Do you think that your +love fills my life completely? I'm sick of your love. It's only a thorn +in my flesh. I want only to get away from you as quickly as possible, +to tear myself away. I'm not at all interested in what you do. Love, +kiss whomever you please. Lie, deceive! Forget who you are! Betray +Communism—it doesn't make any difference!"</p> + +<p>"Vasya! Vasya! What of our friendship? What of your promise to +understand everything?"</p> + +<p>"Our friendship? Where is it? Where's that friendship? I don't believe +you any more, Vladimir. You've killed my faith in you. If you had come +to me and said: 'Vasya, something terrible, something dreadful has +happened; I love another'—do you think I would have held you back, +or reproached you? Do you think I would have stood in the way of your +happiness? You see, Vladimir, you forget that I'm not merely your wife, +but your friend and comrade too. And that's what hurt me—that's what +I'll never forgive."</p> + +<p>The tears flowed over her thin cheeks. Wiping them away with her +sleeve, she turned her back on Vladimir.</p> + +<p>"I believed in you as in a comrade. But you crushed my faith, +pitilessly. And how can we live together when our faith in each other +is gone? Now I see clearly that our life together, our happiness is +over."</p> + +<p>Vasya's heart was heavy; her thin shoulders shook. She sat down on the +bed, crushing the silk quilt in her hands. Sitting down beside her, +Vladimir put his arm round her.</p> + +<p>"Did you say that we've become strangers to each other, that you don't +love me any more? No, Vasya. If you didn't love me, you wouldn't suffer +so. And I? Have I stopped loving you? Please try to understand! Yes, I +love Nina; but in a different way. My love for you is stronger, deeper. +I can't see any course without you, Vasya. Whatever I do, I always +wonder: What would Vasya say? What would she advise? You've been my +guiding star, and I need you."</p> + +<p>"You're always talking about yourself," Vasya complained. "You forget +me. I can't live that way. I'm not worrying so much about your getting +involved in this affair. What hurts me is that we're not comrades any +more."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I don't see that? But why? I don't know. When we're +parted, we long for each other—when we're together we feel cramped. +You said it used to be different. But were we ever together before? We +never had any family life. We were always working, saw each other only +for a moment. Shall we live that way again, Vasya? Just for the moment! +Would you like that? Each to live for himself; and when we want each +other, we'll meet. Yes? Will you? Then Vasya will be my dear tomboy +again, the only one in the world. And there will be no more lies. We +mustn't break off everything forever, in the heat of the moment. That's +what hurts. Have pity on me!"</p> + +<p>Vladimir buried his head in her lap, as he had always done, and hid his +face in her burning hands.</p> + +<p>The room was quiet.</p> + +<p>A wave of the longing they thought they had forgotten covered both of +them with its hot flood. The little ember of passion, buried under the +ashes of suspicion and offended feelings, glowed more brightly again.</p> + +<p>"Vasya—darling!"</p> + +<p>Vladimir's arms embraced Vasya and pulled her on his knee. He covered +her lips with kisses, and her body with passionate caresses.</p> + +<p>Unresisting, Vasya yielded to the sweet languor she had almost +forgotten.</p> + +<p>Let it be so! Now Vladimir loved her as before. Altogether. He belonged +to her alone, forgot Nina. He was unfaithful to Nina—not only with his +body but with his heart and his soul.</p> + +<p>Vasya felt a malicious joy out of keeping with her usual character. It +grieved her, but she was glad at the same time. Let him be unfaithful.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The days that followed were curiously sultry. The ember of passion, +glowing under the ashes of anger and estrangement, flared up like a +charcoal pile fanned into flames by the autumn wind.</p> + +<p>Vladimir had become gentle, Vasya was loving and yielding. They seemed +to have fallen in love all over again. They could not live without +each other. At night they lay clasped in each other's arms, as though +afraid that they might lose each other. Vladimir kissed Vasya's brown +eyes, Vasya pressed Vladimir's head to her heart. They had never loved, +never possessed each other like this, with bittersweet longing and joy. +Had they found love anew, or were they bidding it farewell? Farewell to +their lost, irretrievable happiness?</p> + +<p>The while she smiled and joked Vasya was afraid of bursting into tears +at any moment. Vladimir caressed her, and looked into her brown eyes; +but she read infinite sadness in his gaze. Not the mischievous sparkle +of joy. His eyes did not mirror Vasya's love. They seemed silently to +be saying good-bye to her.</p> + +<p>To keep from seeing Volodya's eyes and their tears, to smother that +infinite sadness, Vasya put her slender arms around Volodya's neck. +She sought his lips; he pressed her to his heart. She yielded to his +passionate caresses. He sought her body, insatiably, until both fell +asleep, exhausted.</p> + +<p>Those were queer days. Hot, sultry, gloomy. They held no happiness, no +carefree joy born of love.</p> + +<p>They discussed everything. "In the meanwhile," Vasya would go home to +her work. When Vladimir would be settled in his new place they would +arrange, by letter, when they would meet. Where? They said nothing. +Not a word was spoken of the separation. Everything seemed so simple +now, so clear and comprehensible, as if there were unadulterated +truthfulness between them. But there was one thing Vasya never +mentioned; that she had taken and hidden Nina's letter, that she was +keeping it because it might some day be useful to her. She insisted +herself that he should telegraph to Moscow that he was coming alone. +Why did she want this? It hurt her, but somehow it seemed necessary. At +first Vladimir refused, and regarded Vasya suspiciously, as if he were +afraid of something. But finally he telegraphed nonetheless—and became +even more loving and ardent.</p> + +<p>It had to be so. They were drinking the last drops of happiness that +remained in the cup of life; and they contained the heady wine of +passion, the bitter sweetness of parting.</p> + +<p>Vasya was gay, animated, lively. Volodya had not seen her so for a long +time.</p> + +<p>"I didn't like my skin, so I shed it. What sort of 'manager's lady' am +I? You need another sort of wife. Beside, I'm not the least bit suited +for the Nep!" Laughing, she teased Volodya.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you are! I only know that you've become Vasya, the +tomboy, again. And I won't give up my tomboy, not even if five Party +Committees demand you. For a while, yes; but for good—never!"</p> + +<p>Vasya laughed. That was how it had to be. They would meet occasionally, +as free comrades. But not as man and wife. That would be better.</p> + +<p>Vladimir agreed that it would be better so. But he couldn't live +without Vasya's clever little curly head.</p> + +<p>"There are so few friends in the world, Vasya. Especially nowadays. +They're all gone; everyone thinks only of himself. But we're tried +friends and true, aren't we, Vasya?"</p> + +<p>They talked together as if the wall between them no longer existed; it +had been broken down. The serpent in Vasya's heart lay dormant; she +thought her jealousy had disappeared. But suddenly, unexpectedly, she +felt the sharp fangs again. Vladimir could not free himself of the +past. He would talk of Nina; it showed how frequently he thought of +her. She was so well educated, he said. She could speak perfect French +with Frenchmen, German with Germans. She had learned that in school.</p> + +<p>"If she's so well educated, why can't she find work? Or does she prefer +to live at the expense of others? I suppose her laziness is in her +blood. Besides, it's much more comfortable to be your mistress."</p> + +<p>Vasya knew she shouldn't say such things; but she could not restrain +herself. The serpent was hurting her; and that was why she wanted to +strike Volodya. Let him suffer, too.</p> + +<p>Volodya frowned, looked at Vasya reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that, Vasya? It's ugly of you. My tomboy Vasya wouldn't +say that. It was another Vassilissa Dementyevna."</p> + +<p>This stung; Vasya was ashamed of herself. But she could not stop. She +tried over and over again to wound Volodya, until he grew furious, and +she came to her senses.</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry, dear. Forgive me! I love you. If I didn't love you, I +wouldn't torment you so...."</p> + +<p>Ecstatic kisses, two bodies seeking each other deliriously—to drown +thought and suffering; to forget—to hide the inevitable truth.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya bade the Party Committee farewell, packed the things in the +house. She was concerned about everything, with the scrubbing rags, the +hemp mats, and the straw. She consulted with Marya Semyonovna, held +important conferences with her; how to pack everything so that nothing +would be damaged or broken, so that everything would arrive safely in +the manager's new home.</p> + +<p>"Why do you bother so much about it?" grumbled Marya Semyonovna. "If +you're going back home, why do you work so hard? Mark my word: the +moment you're gone that little lady'll be there to take your place. And +you're working and worrying for her!"</p> + +<p>Why not? Let it be so. She was not helping him as his wife; a wife +would never have done it, would have condemned Vladimir: why had he +become a <i>burshui</i>? But now this had nothing to do with her. He was +living for himself, and she for herself. Each was going his own way. +But they were comrades. Why shouldn't she help him? Not because he was +her husband, not because he demanded, expected, or wished it. No; but +as a comrade, as a friend. Nor was she angry with him. If he wanted to +take along all that trash, and to burden the national freight lines +with his cases of dishes and his trunks of silks, it was his own +affair! This was the parting of the ways for them. She could not go +through life hand in hand with him; but why shouldn't she help him pack?</p> + +<p>Volodya could not believe his own eyes. Since when had she become such +a housewife? He sang her praises to Ivan Ivanovitch and the members of +the administration. But again and again he asked Vasya who would put +his new house in order if she didn't come along.</p> + +<p>"Who? Why, what's the matter with Nina Constantinovna? Or doesn't she +want to soil her little white hands? She's a fine lady—everything has +to be prepared for her, and handed her on a silver platter. By others, +at the expense of others."</p> + +<p>She had hurt Volodya, and she was sorry. Why? He looked at her +reproachfully, as if to ask: Why, Vasya?</p> + +<p>"My darling, my sweetheart—I'm nasty, I know it! But it's only because +I love you. Don't be angry, dear. I was only joking."</p> + +<p>She hid her face on Volodya's breast, endeavored to swallow the tears +that were choking her. For she loved him, come what might! She loved +him, suffered, was afraid of losing him. It would be better to die!</p> + +<p>"My poor darling. My Vasyuk. I know you—that's why I love you, why I +can't tear my heart away from you. There's not another such Vasya in +all the world. I'll never have another friend like you!"</p> + +<p>And again that bitter, oppressive delirium dulled their senses—again +they sought to drown their suffering in love.</p> + +<p>"Will you keep a little corner of your heart free for the rebellious +'Anarchist'?"</p> + +<p>"When you're happy, will you think of your tomboy, Vasya?"</p> + +<p>It was a queer time. Passionate, gloomy....</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="FREEDOM">FREEDOM</h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> +</div> + + +<p>Knock-knock! Knock-knock!</p> + +<p>Vasya was standing before the locked door of her former attic, where +Grusha was living now. She knocked. Downstairs they had told her that +Grusha had come home from work. But the door was locked. Where was +Grusha?</p> + +<p>Knock-knock! Knock-knock!</p> + +<p>Could she be asleep?</p> + +<p>She turned, to see Grusha coming down the hall with a kettle of hot +water.</p> + +<p>"Grusha!"</p> + +<p>"Vassilissa! Dearest! When did you come? So unexpected!"</p> + +<p>Setting the teakettle on the floor, Grusha embraced Vasya.</p> + +<p>"Do come in. It's your attic after all. I owe my living here only to +you. Only wait until I open the door. They steal in this house—it's +terrible. I even lock the door when I go for water. Not long ago +they took a coat that was hanging in Furyashkin's room. A fall coat, +absolutely new. He turned the entire house upside down, and even got +the police. But they didn't find anything.</p> + +<p>"So, you're home now, Vassilissa! Take off your wraps, wash off the +dust of your trip. I was just going to make tea. Do you want something +to eat? I have eggs, bread, and some apples."</p> + +<p>Home? Grusha had said she was at home. But could people like Vasya have +a "home"?</p> + +<p>She looked about. The attic was so familiar. But it wasn't Vasya's +attic any more. There was a sewing machine, a dressmaker's model in +the corner, pieces of cloth lying about, scraps and short threads on +the floor. The walls were bare. Neither Marx nor Lenin, nor the group +of tenants celebrating the founding of the community house. Instead, a +faded red paper fan. Beside it, a postcard with the picture of an egg +and a golden inscription: "Christ hath arisen." An ikon in the corner. +Grusha was not a member of the Party. She believed in God and observed +the fasts, although she was in favor of the Soviet Government and had +many friends among the Communists. She had been engaged to be married; +but her fiancé had gone with the Whites, had probably been killed. And +if he had been killed, the chances were he had been put to death by +the Red Guards. That was why Grusha refused to become a Communist. She +cherished the memory of her lover.</p> + +<p>"If I should join you he would curse me in the other world."</p> + +<p>Before, Vasya had been unable to understand Grusha. How could she +love a White? But now she knew that the heart would not obey orders. +Vladimir and she had come to the parting of the ways; but her love +still was alive, gave her no peace.</p> + +<p>Grusha was glad that Vassilissa had come home. She didn't know which +would be the best place to give her. She fairly overwhelmed her with +news, and wondered why Vasya hadn't gained when she was with her +husband. She had come back as thin as she had been, if not thinner. +Vasya said nothing. She had thought that when she would see Grusha she +would fall into her arms and, weeping, tell her all her troubles. But +when they met, Vasya could not open her mouth, could find no words. How +could she tell anyone about this sorrow?</p> + +<p>The news of Vassilissa's arrival spread through the house. The old +tenants were delighted, while the new ones were curious to see what she +was like. One of the members of the House Committee grumbled that now +she probably would want to get into the administration again. The first +to come to Grusha's room were the children, Vasya's old friends of the +Children's Club.</p> + +<p>The older among them immediately had a complaint to lodge: the +Children's Club had been broken up at the time of the Nep. They had +said it didn't pay, and that the rooms were needed for other purposes. +But where could the children do their lessons now? Their collections +had been broken up and their library had been scattered; some of it had +even been sold.</p> + +<p>Vasya listened. Was such a thing possible? She bridled at once. She +would not let the matter rest. She would go immediately to the Party +Committee, to the Educational and Housing Bureaus. Let the Nep attend +to its own business; but let it keep its hands off the things the +workers had built up laboriously.</p> + +<p>"I'll fight them. I won't permit such a thing. Don't worry, children; +I'll see to it that you get what's coming to you, even if I have to go +to Moscow for it."</p> + +<p>The older boys laughed with delight. They believed in Vasya. She would +surely attend to it; she was going to fight now. The whole house knew +her as "the fighter". That was as it should be. The children were all +for Vassilissa.</p> + +<p>After the children the old tenants came in to greet her. But the moment +they had said: "Good afternoon," each of them had an urgent request +to make of her, everyone had his troubles and wanted to tell her +about them. Vasya listened patiently to them all. As always, she was +interested in everything, advised and consoled them.</p> + +<p>The attic was so crowded that it was impossible to turn around.</p> + +<p>"Wait a little, Comrades," pleaded Grusha. "You're not giving her a +chance to eat. And she's tired, after traveling for so many nights. But +you have to come in with your affairs, and get her all mixed up."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Grusha. Never mind. I'm not at all tired. What were you telling +me, Timofei Timofeiyevitch? Oh yes, about the taxes you're supposed to +pay. How can that be? You're no property owner, nor an employer or +manager..."</p> + +<p>As she uttered the word "manager" she thought of Volodya. But her pain +was submerged in the troubles of others. She had no time for it.</p> + +<p>Her old friends went away, one by one; and, forgetting her weariness, +Vasya decided to go to Party Headquarters and get to work immediately.</p> + +<p>She buttoned her coat, listening to Grusha's news the while. One man +had married, another had left the Party; this girl had become a member +of the Council. Suddenly they heard the voice of the Fedosseyev woman, +resounding through the hall.</p> + +<p>"Where's our darling, our defender? My precious Vassilissa +Dementyevna!" She threw her arms around Vasya's neck, and covered her +with moist kisses. At the same time bitter tears were rolling down her +cheeks and wet Vasya's face.</p> + +<p>"I waited for you so long, dearest! I've been so lonesome for you! I +waited for you as for the sunshine. When Vassilissa Dementyevna, our +protector, comes back she'll straighten out everything. When she's here +the wretch won't dare make his wife a laughing-stock. He'll be ashamed +to disgrace the entire house with that slut. She'll sympathize with +me because I have to take care of the little children all by myself. +She'll take him to court. At least he'll have to submit to the Party. +You, our darling, you're my only hope."</p> + +<p>As a rule Vasya was able to divine the troubles of others from a few +words. But this time she couldn't quite make out what the Fedosseyev +woman was wailing about. Of whom was she complaining? Vasya saw that +she had changed a great deal, almost beyond recognition. She had been +a young, robust, full-bosomed woman—now she had grown thin, old and +yellow.</p> + +<p>What sorrow was breaking her heart?</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev had entered on a love affair with Dora, an "unbaptized" +Jewess. He wanted to have nothing to do with his wife, made her the +laughing-stock of the entire district. No one could make him ashamed of +himself. He had left his own children, was bringing everything to his +sweetheart. Here, little girl, that's for you! Let the family die in +their corner! Only don't chase me away, me, your pock-marked lover.</p> + +<p>"What in the world did that goose Dora see in him?" shrieked the +Fedosseyev woman. "If he were a real man...! But he's disgusting. +He's so damned filthy! I put up with him for eight years, kissed his +pock-marked phiz for the children's sake. Vassilyevitch, I thought, +you're an ass, but fate brought us together and the Church married us, +so I'll have to stand you. When he would be insistent, he'd make me +sick. But I endured him, never looked at anyone else. I thought he'd +be grateful to me. I gave all my youth to the filthy beast; and that's +what I get for it! I lost my good looks, and he ran after that girl. He +had to get mixed up with a Jewish girl! It's a disgrace for the whole +district."</p> + +<p>The Fedosseyev woman wept uncontrollably. Vasya listened; and her own +heart seemed filled with a dark flood. Here she found her own grief and +indignation all over again. She shuddered with disgust. Where had her +pluck gone? She no longer felt any desire to go to the Party Committee. +She wanted only to bury her head in her pillow, and to see nothing more.</p> + +<p>The other, however, continued to sob, to kiss Vassilissa's shoulder, to +beg her to bring her husband to reason and to defend the interests of +the little children. She should threaten him with a court trial.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>As she went home from Party Headquarters, Vasya was surrounded by her +Comrades. They couldn't stop talking. And Vasya felt so happy and gay. +She had forgotten everything, as if she had never lived for or worried +about anything but the Party.</p> + +<p>She had grown excited, had quarreled and stood her ground; she had +asked questions about everything, and had found out just how the land +lay. It had interested and satisfied her. Her head was working, her +soul seemed to rise.</p> + +<p>She hurried up to her attic without noticing the stairs. Only then she +felt her weariness.</p> + +<p>While Grusha was preparing supper Vasya lay down on the bed, and fell +asleep at once.</p> + +<p>Grusha looked at her friend, undecided as to whether she should wake +her. She felt sorry for her. Vasya was exhausted; let her sleep.</p> + +<p>She undressed Vasya as though she were a child, took off her shoes, +and covered her. She hung a shade over the light, and sat down to sew +button-holes.</p> + +<p>Knock-knock!</p> + +<p>Who the devil could be coming now? Grusha muttered angrily. They never +let a person alone.</p> + +<p>She opened the door. There stood Fedosseyev, the husband.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I want to see Vassilissa Dementyevna. Is she at home?"</p> + +<p>"Are you all crazy? She's had a long trip; she's tired, hasn't had a +chance to sleep—and you fall on her like a pack of hungry dogs on a +bone. Vassilissa Dementyevna is asleep."</p> + +<p>Grusha and Fedosseyev had words. Fedosseyev was obstinate, but Grusha +refused to let him in. Tomorrow. They agreed on the next day.</p> + +<p>She banged the door in Fedosseyev's face. A damned filthy fellow. Had a +wife and three children, and Dora was big, too. It was beyond Grusha.</p> + +<p>She considered that Fedosseyev was in the wrong. And she condemned +Dora, too. Why had she started anything with a married man? Weren't +there enough bachelors? Grusha's morals were very strict. She kept +within bounds; for she still remembered her lover.</p> + +<p>When Vasya woke up she felt calm and at peace with the world. The +autumn sun was shining through the window, throwing a golden light on +the seamstress. Grusha was heating her flatiron on the petroleum stove; +she was going to iron a dress.</p> + +<p>"For whom is it?"</p> + +<p>"For a member of the Executive Committee, for a birthday party."</p> + +<p>"What? Are they celebrating birthdays nowadays?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so! You ought to see them—it's better than it used to +be with the rich people. The table is covered with appetizers, wine, +whiskey..." Grusha's iron was hissing; she had no time to talk. Vasya +stretched on the bed. She remembered it well. It was hard and narrow; +yet she had slept in it together with Volodya. How had they ever had +room? Now they had been in each other's way even in a wide bed.</p> + +<p>It had been different in the old days.</p> + +<p>Was her misery trying to creep into her heart again, to disturb her +peace of mind? No, everything was quiet in her heart. The calm that +follows a storm.</p> + +<p>Grusha remembered the appointment with Fedosseyev, and told Vasya about +it.</p> + +<p>"I don't care. Let him come."</p> + +<p>She didn't want to have too much to do with the Fedosseyevs. She +seemed offended because these gossips had been overtaken by the same +misfortune as she.</p> + +<p>She inquired about Dora. Who was she?</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember her?" Grusha was amazed. "She's dark and +pretty—she danced with the tambourine at the Komsomolsk celebration."</p> + +<p>Now Vasya recalled her. Very favorably. She had worked in the tanners' +Cultural Committee. A clever girl; and her youth was no drawback. +Besides, she sang well. How could the Fedosseyev woman think of +comparing with her?</p> + +<p>Grusha's view was different. She condemned Dora; the laws had to be +observed. If the Communists were to permit husbands to act that way, +all the men would desert their wives and little children, and would +take on young girls. The Party was going to take proceedings against +Dora.</p> + +<p>"Take proceedings against her? Only the Fedosseyev woman could be +behind that. A disgusting creature!" Vasya defended Dora. "No law could +force a man to live with a woman he doesn't love. Do you want to force +him to embrace that woman? Even though he loathes her? Even though +she's a common sneak?"</p> + +<p>Vasya was quite wrought up. She was furious with the Fedosseyev woman; +and why? She hardly knew herself. As she fought about the Fedosseyevs +she thought of Vladimir. As she defended Dora she saw the white lace +parasol and Nina's red lips.</p> + +<p>Grusha was surprised to see Vassilissa siding with Fedosseyev.</p> + +<p>"You act as if they were your best friends. Weren't you always railing +against them? You know how much trouble they caused you. Of course, +it's your own affair; but I'd advise you to keep out of this business. +There's no use in getting mixed up in a dog fight."</p> + +<p>Vasya was stubborn. She would stand up for Dora if there were +proceedings against her. "Tell me, if you please: does Fedosseyev's +legal wife think she's the only one who has rights? No. She's mistaken. +There are other rights, not dictated by human laws. They are the +commands of the heart."</p> + +<p>As Grusha pressed the hem of the dress she looked at Vasya attentively, +as if to read her friend's innermost thoughts.</p> + +<p>Vasya frowned. Why did Grusha object? Wasn't Vasya right? Could any law +dictate to the heart?</p> + +<p>"Who said so? The heart is most important of all. You can't be human if +you haven't a heart. But as I look at you now I see clearly that you're +heart-sick, too, Vassilissa, that you're suffering. That's why you're +defending Fedosseyev. You're thinking of your man, aren't you? And you +want to find an excuse for him. I'm right."</p> + +<p>Vasya said nothing, but bowed her head.</p> + +<p>Grusha asked no more questions. Taking the dress from the ironing-board +she shook it out and picked off the loose threads. Now it was finished.</p> + +<p>"Are you through?" asked Vasya, thinking of something quite different.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then I'll go to the Party Committee. Let Fedosseyev wait."</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Now came days of hard work for Vassilissa. She was preparing to +leave for the weaving works. She conferred with Stepan Alexeyevitch, +acquainted herself with her instructions, and spent her evenings at +meetings of her responsible co-workers. The hours passed so quickly +that she had no time to think, or to listen to her heart.</p> + +<p>And then she had her new worries, about the Fedosseyevs and Dora. They +and their difficulties gave Vasya no rest.</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev had come to her, and had told her everything.</p> + +<p>He had met Dora Abramovna in the Cultural Committee. He had been +singing in the chorus. Dora Abramovna liked his bass, and took him to a +music teacher. She was a musician herself. And she had brought him into +the Cultural Committee. That was how it had begun. But his wife soon +got wind of it, and then there was trouble.</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev complained about his wife; she was spreading all sorts of +rumors, and was setting the Comrades against Dora Abramovna. She was +wailing that Dora was "robbing" her family, and was letting Fedosseyev +support her. The truth was quite the opposite. Not only did Dora +refuse to accept a single kopek from Fedosseyev, but she even helped +the family, sharing everything with them. She thought of the children, +too, had brought the younger ones into the kindergarten, and had given +textbooks and copybooks to the oldest boy, who went to school. Of +course she didn't want the wife to know that. Besides, she had made a +shirt and tie for Fedosseyev to wear to the concerts. But the malicious +gossips had it just the other way.</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev was grieved on Dora's account. It wouldn't hurt him. But he +was worried about her, lest she get into difficulties with the Party +because of him. It was all his wife's fault; she insisted on being in +their way.</p> + +<p>Listening to Fedosseyev, Vasya couldn't help thinking of Vladimir and +Nina. They too had suffered like this, had sought a way out, had been +angry at Vasya because she prevented them from being happy. She had +advised the Fedosseyev woman to get out of the way of her own accord. +It was impossible to block the happiness of others; no matter how +many barriers you would put in its path, you couldn't keep it from +flying over your head. But what was Vasya herself doing? Was not she, +too, standing in the way? Was she not still standing guard over the +happiness that had been?</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev loved Dora. When he spoke of her his face seemed to shine. +She had seen the same change in Vladimir when he thought of Nina.</p> + +<p>"Dora Abramovna has a heart of gold. In the union everybody's fond of +her, too. Those who don't belong to the Party don't think it'll take +any action against her. But if it does, they'll be only too happy. 'Let +her come to us independents; we'll take Dora Abramovna's part, never +fear!'"</p> + +<p>Fedosseyev had hardly left Vasya when his wife caught hold of her, +kissed her shoulders, and begged her to be on her side.</p> + +<p>Vasya, who didn't like Fedosseyeva, crossly waved her away. Whereupon +she filled the entire house with her shouting about Dora, about her +husband, and about Vasya, abusing all three of them at once.</p> + +<p>Vasya met Dora at Party headquarters. They found a corner where the +typists were busily pounding away at their machines, where the noise +permitted them to talk without being overheard.</p> + +<p>Dora was pretty, with clever eyes. Vasya liked her.</p> + +<p>She was trying to hide her pregnancy with a shawl.</p> + +<p>Dora began to speak of her own accord. Not of herself, but of +Fedosseyev. She looked after him, esteemed him, admired his talent; +his voice was excellent, as good as Chaliapin's. All he needed was to +study. That was why Dora wanted to marry him. So that he could break +away from his family and from his cobbling, so that he could devote +himself entirely to his singing.</p> + +<p>But although she spoke highly of Fedosseyev Dora also bewailed his +indecision. As long as he was with her he was prepared to do anything, +fully determined to leave his wife and put through the divorce. But as +soon as he came home it was finished. He would give in, and she would +have to begin all over again. She had been working on him for so many +months! And unsuccessfully.</p> + +<p>Vasya grew disturbed as she listened to Dora. Might not Nina have +spoken of Vladimir in the same way?</p> + +<p>Dora didn't care a rap for all the formalities of divorce and +marriage. It was all nonsense in her eyes; she favored a free union. +But Fedosseyeva would never let them live in peace unless they were +registered in the Commissariat; therefore Dora was making the most of +her being 'in the family way' to move Fedosseyev and induce him to get +the divorce. She wasn't afraid of motherhood. She would be able to take +care of herself without a husband too.</p> + +<p>To move him? To force him to get the divorce? Had Nina done that, too? +Dora, praising Fedosseyev, was expecting Vasya to voice her approval.</p> + +<p>But Vasya was thinking of her own troubles. Dora saw only the good +in Fedosseyev. Nina probably loved Vladimir in the same way. Vasya +was different. She saw Vladimir's bad points, too. She loved him and +suffered for his faults; they distressed her, and she wanted to reform +him. Might this not have hurt Volodya?</p> + +<p>"Why does his wife cling to him so?" Dora spoke wrathfully. "Because +they used to love each other? But that was so long ago! Now there's +nothing to keep them together. She doesn't really know him—she can't +appreciate him—she doesn't understand him at all!"</p> + +<p>Ah, thought Vasya, that's how it was with Vladimir and me. He didn't +know what I wanted, and I couldn't understand his ideas. Our paths went +off in different directions.</p> + +<p>"He's a stranger to his wife; they're different in every respect—in +their tastes and in their ideals. She wants to keep him as a husband, +but she doesn't need him as a man. He's not essential in her life."</p> + +<p>And she, Vasya—did she need Vladimir as a man? Was he essential to her?</p> + +<p>As she asked herself this question her heart answered distinctly: No, +she did not need him—not as he was now. But Dora could not help going +on: "What sort of love is that? They can't bear each other. It's a +cat-and-dog life. Every man for himself. Neither friendship, nor faith +in each other."</p> + +<p>Yes, thought Vasya. Yes; neither friendship, nor faith in each other.</p> + +<p>"And we, Comrade Fedosseyev and I, understand each other as if we had +only one heart, one soul."</p> + +<p>So that was the love of Vladimir and Nina.</p> + +<p>Vasya seemed to understand it only now. She grew thoughtful.</p> + +<p>She had much to do. Urgent Party affairs, preparations for her +departure. Yet she didn't forget the Fedosseyevs. She did her best to +hasten the divorce, tried to reconcile Fedosseyev with his Comrades, +and to defend Dora.</p> + +<p>All this seemed important, very important for Vasya. She couldn't +explain why.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya was hurrying home from Party headquarters. She was to leave for +the weaving works the next day. Her head was whirling. How reorganize +the work, follow orders and adapt herself to the many who didn't belong +to the Party? The independents were just like the Communists nowadays. +They wanted to penetrate more and more deeply into everything, to +investigate everything themselves. They took nothing on faith. If you +didn't have a sound basis for your statements you might just as well +not talk to them.</p> + +<p>Her head was full of all this. She seemed to have forgotten her +heartache. She felt as if she had never lost her man, her friend—as if +she had not lived through an entire summer as "the manager's lady".</p> + +<p>Vasya hurried along. She had had nothing to eat since morning. And when +she thought of food she felt sick, everything seemed to grow dark, her +head was reeling. How long? Was she going to be ill, or....</p> + +<p>A suspicion rose in her mind. It was almost three months since her last +period. Oughtn't she to look up Marya Andreyevna, the physician? She +lived right here, in one of the side streets. They had worked together +in the organization of the nursery for the community houses. She would +have to find out what the trouble was. Vasya couldn't go to her new +work if she was sick.</p> + +<p>She turned into the side street, went up to the little white house, and +rang the bell. The physician, Marya Andreyevna, opened the door herself.</p> + +<p>"How in the world did you happen to come here? Is it a business matter, +or do you want my professional advice?"</p> + +<p>Vasya was on pins and needles; she felt embarrassed, and even blushed.</p> + +<p>After watching her carefully for a while Marya Andreyevna put her hand +on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Come into my office—I'll examine you."</p> + +<p>Marya Andreyevna inquired about Vasya's appetite, her periods, her +dizziness. She seemed to know everything in advance. She examined Vasya.</p> + +<p>It was disagreeable and embarrassing for Vasya. She had never consulted +a gynecologist before. She was almost frightened when she had to sit +down on the examination chair.</p> + +<p>As she dressed, her hands trembled so that she couldn't fasten the +hooks.</p> + +<p>Marya Andreyevna stood before the wash-stand in her white smock, and +painstakingly scrubbed her hands with soap and a brush.</p> + +<p>For a while neither spoke.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear Comrade Vassilissa, I don't know whether you'll be glad or +sorry, but there's no doubt about it. You're in the family way."</p> + +<p>Vasya was surprised. But in a moment a smile flitted over her face. A +baby? That would be nice.</p> + +<p>"Will you go back to your husband now?" asked the white-smocked +physician as she dried her hands on an embroidered towel.</p> + +<p>"To my husband? No." Vasya shook her head. "I'm not going back to +him—we've separated. Each of us is going his own way."</p> + +<p>"You've separated? This is a fine time for it! How will you arrange +things now? We may yet be able to stop the business. What do you say? +Where will you go all alone with your child? You're not strong."</p> + +<p>"I'm not alone, though. Tomorrow I'm leaving for the weaving works. +There's a fine group there, mostly women, weavers. We'll all work +together there, organize a nursery. Oh, yes, that's what I wanted to +ask you: how did you make the nursery self-supporting? Tell me about +it, please, and advise me."</p> + +<p>They discussed the nursery, subsidies, contributions, the payment of +professional employes. Vasya forgot the "news" about herself. Marya +reminded her of it when she was leaving.</p> + +<p>"Don't undertake too much work! Remember that your health is none too +good. I'm afraid for you, my dear!"</p> + +<p>She gave Vasya some advice. One thing was prohibited, while another +was good for her. Vasya listened, and tried to remember everything. +For the child's sake. It should be a strong baby. It was so little, so +helpless....</p> + +<p>She reached the street, smiled as she walked along.</p> + +<p>A baby! That would be nice. She would show the other women how to raise +a child in the Communist way. There was no need for a kitchen, for +family life and all that nonsense. The thing to do was to organize a +nursery, a self-supporting community house. Practice was better than +preaching.</p> + +<p>Vasya was so occupied with the idea of self-support that she even +forgot her child. The thought of Vladimir, however, never entered her +mind, as though he had had nothing to do with it.</p> + +<p>Vasya was packing. A box containing Volodya's picture and his letters +fell over. On the top of the pile lay a narrow, tinted envelope, Nina +Constantinovna's letter.</p> + +<p>Vasya looked at it, turned it over and over. She knew it by heart, yet +she wanted to read it again. It would revive her heartache; but she +could not resist it. Whenever she read it the old pain again gnawed at +her heart; then it would freeze—that was her wrath against Vladimir. +Why had he lied? Why had he deceived her?</p> + +<p>She took up the letter, went closer to the window. It was growing dark. +She unfolded the familiar sheet. She read it carefully, every word.</p> + +<p>But the gnawing pain was gone. And the serpent, that venomous +tormentor, seemed to have lost its strength.</p> + +<p>Instead, Vasya felt pity stirring in her heart. Sympathy for Nina +Constantinovna's tears. Sympathy with the grief, the sorrow, the +distress of another woman's heart. She remembered Nina going away from +the bandstand, wiping away her tears with her fingers.</p> + +<p>Why had she suffered? Why had she exposed herself to such anguish? She +had expected a baby; and she had got rid of it. Why?</p> + +<p>Going over to the table, Vasya pushed aside Grusha's pieces of cloth, +set down the ink and began to write a letter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>"Nina Constantinovna!</p> + +<p>"I don't know you, have no idea of what you really are. I've seen you +only once. And I will tell you quite frankly that I didn't like you. +But when you cried, as you went away from the bandstand, my heart +understood your pain and suffered with you.</p> + +<p>"I have just reread your letter to Vladimir Ivanovitch. I'm returning +it to you; my taking it was quite unwarranted, and I kept it from +Vladimir. But it has served its purpose. So you needn't be angry with +me on this account.</p> + +<p>"I've thought a great deal about your letter. Now that I have just +reread it I know that I cherish no grudge against you, that I'm not +angry with you any more. I see that you, too, have suffered much +because of me. Let me, therefore, tell you what I've already told +Vladimir: We've had enough of this game of hide and seek. You must +become Vladimir Ivanovitch's wife, his legal wife. The two of you are +better suited to each other. I'm not the proper wife for him, for our +tastes differ, and our lives run in different directions. I never know +what he thinks, and he doesn't understand me.</p> + +<p>"When we separated, Vladimir and I, it was not because you had stolen +him away from me; you could take possession of his heart only because +he no longer loved me. I shall continue to live now just as I used +to live before without Vladimir. You, however, actually cannot live +without him. It is always so when two people love each other.</p> + +<p>"Vladimir Ivanovitch and I lived in a free union, so that no divorce +is required.</p> + +<p>"I do not reproach you. If I had known sooner how you love each other, +I would have done this long ago. Tell Vladimir Ivanovitch that I feel +no bitterness toward him, but will always be his friend, as I always +used to be. And should you ever need anything I shall always be ready +to help you or to be of service to you. There was a time when my heart +held little love for you. But now that I understand everything I feel +only deep sympathy for you, for all your tears, for the suffering and +heartache of a woman. I wish you great happiness, as I would a sister. +Remember me to Vladimir, and tell him to take good care of his bride.</p> + +<p>"In any case, I'm giving you my new address. If you want to write +me, I will answer. For we aren't enemies, Nina Constantinovna, even +though, unintentionally, we caused each other much pain. Neither of us +wanted to hurt the other.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye. I wish you all the happiness in the world,</p> + +<p class="ph2">"Vassilissa Malygina."</p> +</div> + +<p>At the end of the letter she wrote down her exact address. Then she put +both letters into an envelope, moistened the flap with her tongue, and +pasted it together.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, her soul—not her reason—told her: this is the end.</p> + +<p>The end? But where was the pain?</p> + +<p>There was no pain.</p> + +<p>Where was her grief? Her gnawing, benumbing grief?</p> + +<p>The grief, too, had gone.</p> + +<p>Volodya "the American" was there—not Vladimir Ivanovitch. She thought +of Vladimir and saw Nina. She thought of Nina, and Vladimir appeared +beside her.</p> + +<p>As though they had become one for Vasya—one, indivisible, inseparable.</p> + +<p>One. The thought of it did not hurt her. Let them be one.</p> + +<p>Her heart was calm, full of peace. Like a garden after a tempest.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Vasya stood beside the window, enjoying the sunset. The sun was sinking +behind purple, gold-edged clouds, as in a storm. The crows were +circling over the earth, cawing, seeking a shelter for the night.</p> + +<p>The air smelled of dry leaves, mushrooms and autumn earth. Fragrant, +refreshing, familiar. Not spicy and enervating, as in Vladimir's +country.</p> + +<p>Vasya drew a deep breath, avidly drinking in the air.</p> + +<p>Yes, life was beautiful.</p> + +<p>She leaned out of the window. In the little courtyard Grusha was +hastening to get the clean clothes off the line while it was still +daylight.</p> + +<p>"Grusha. Grusha. Come here, quick. I have some news. Good news...."</p> + +<p>"I'm on my way."</p> + +<p>She came in, threw the laundry on the bed.</p> + +<p>"What's the news? Did you get a letter?"</p> + +<p>"A letter? Yes, it's a letter; but I didn't get it—I wrote it. Guess +to whom!"</p> + +<p>"To none other than Vladimir Ivanovitch, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"But you're wrong! Not to him, but to the little lady, his wife, Nina +Constantinovna."</p> + +<p>Grusha was astonished. "Why did you do that?"</p> + +<p>"You see, Grusha, when I read that letter of Nina's over again I felt +so sorry for her. After all she suffered, too, on my account. And +she lost a baby because of me. She endured everything, grieved, was +miserable. And why? We're not rivals, after all. We're not enemies. If +she had taken Vladimir from me in cold blood, without love, I would +never have forgiven her, would always have been furious at her. But now +that I really understand her.... For she loves Vladimir. She loves him +very much, more than I do. And she's right.</p> + +<p>"Life without Vladimir means nothing to her. That's why she writes: +'I can't live without you!' Do I need Vladimir? I've thought it over, +Grusha, many times; and now I realize that I won't grieve for him. +If Volodya 'the American' could come back, it would be different. I +long for him, Grusha, for the old Volodya. But, you see, the American +doesn't exist any more! And he'll never return! So why should I torment +Nina? Why disturb the happiness of these two? What do I care about the +'manager'? I don't need him."</p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Grusha, "you don't need the manager. That's the worst of +it, the way so many of our men have deserted us to become managers. +But don't be unhappy, Vassilissa. There are plenty of our boys left. +Just look at those who don't belong to the Party! You'll find true +Communists among them, real proletarian Communists."</p> + +<p>"Of course, we're getting new recruits. But the others? They exchanged +their proletarianism long ago for lamps and quilts. They don't +understand us. So, you see, Grusha, I thought: Why torment Nina? Why +hold on to Vladimir? He was neither married nor free. What was the +sense in that state of affairs? It would have to be stopped; and that +without bitterness. They had suffered enough. I didn't quite understand +all this when I left Vladimir. I was still expecting something, hoping +for something. I thought that if Vladimir left me for another woman I +would die of grief. I was numbed with pain when I came here; I didn't +even notice the trip. But when I went to work in the Party Committee, +when others came to me with their worries and troubles, it seemed to me +that my sorrow was gone. Will you believe me? I can honestly say that I +feel neither bitterness nor jealousy. Everything is calm and quiet."</p> + +<p>"Mother of God, I thank thee!" Grusha quickly crossed herself, and +glanced at the ikon in the corner. "I did not kneel and pray to our +Holy Lady all these nights in vain, Vassilissa. 'Help a woman's +heart,' I prayed. 'Help Vassilissa.'"</p> + +<p>Vasya smiled. "Stop, Grusha! You're incorrigible! Do you still believe +in ikons? But what you said is true: I'm cured. How many months was I +walking about like a somnambulist! I wasn't conscious. I didn't live. I +forgot the Party. But now I'm well again. Everything delights me now, +everything's new to me. The old world still goes round. Vladimir may +be gone, but the Party is there. That's how I felt after I had typhus, +when I began to recuperate."</p> + +<p>"I'm only afraid that you'll have another attack, that your husband'll +write some more of those damned letters of his."</p> + +<p>"No, Grusha, that won't happen again!" Thoughtfully Vasya shook her +head. "My heart has changed altogether. I resent nothing, reproach him +with nothing; my jealousy of Nina has disappeared. But my pity for them +remains. All three of us were lost in a labyrinth. We were angry at +one another. And we couldn't find the way out before we had lost our +bitterness. When I took Nina into my heart I stepped out of that maze +of suffering. It was not because I forgave her; what did I have to +forgive? But I sympathized with her as with a sister, for she had known +a woman's pain, and had suffered as much as I. Not through her own +fault, but because life still hasn't reached the ideal. I pitied her +and I felt better."</p> + +<p>"And it couldn't be otherwise if you don't love him any more. Love +always brings suffering. It gives you a little joy—but sorrow follows +it like a shadow. And when you feel no more pain your love's at an end, +too."</p> + +<p>"That's not true, Grusha; you mustn't look at things that way," Vasya +shook her head. "I haven't stopped loving Vladimir. He's still in my +heart. But my love has changed. It no longer makes me miserable; I'm +not angry at him any more. I am grateful to him for the love that has +been, for the happiness we felt together. Why should I be vexed with +Vladimir? As long as he loved me we were happy. Now he has stopped +loving me—who's to blame for that? I thank him for what has been. I +feel as if Vladimir had become my brother, and Nina my sister."</p> + +<p>"I can't quite see your regarding Nina as a sister. You're trying to +fool yourself, Vassilissa. Don't try to be too clever—don't be a +super-Communist. Of course it's better that you've forgiven Vladimir +about Nina. Forgiven and forgotten. Out of your heart, and out of +your mind. But as for love—don't! Keep your love, your heart for the +workers instead. They're having a hard time now. Many of them have lost +faith in themselves. They don't get much out of your Party doctrines. +Give them something more, food and warmth for the heart. I'm not a +member of the Party, but I see everything nevertheless. Just ask me, +Vassilissa, and I'll always tell you the truth."</p> + +<p>"I know you're with us, Grusha; we all know that. But why do you still +insist on believing in your ikons? Now, don't pout, don't be offended. +I won't say another word. I won't tease you any more, and I won't +quarrel with you. I'm in such a festive mood today, Grusha. I feel so +happy, so gay, so free! And do you know who cured me? Do you? Try to +guess!"</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine!"</p> + +<p>"The Fedosseyevs."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it! Then let that Fedosseyev woman be forgiven for all +her sins and meanness!"</p> + +<p>They laughed.</p> + +<p>"But I haven't even told you the biggest news of all, Grusha. I saw the +doctor. I'm expecting a baby."</p> + +<p>"A baby?" Grusha clapped her hands. "Really? Then how could you let +your husband go? Will you let the baby be fatherless, or are you going +to be fashionable, and have an abortion?"</p> + +<p>"Why an abortion? Let the child grow. I don't need a man. That's all +they can do—be fathers! Look at the Fedosseyev woman with her three +children—they didn't keep her husband from going to Dora."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well; but how will you bring it up all by yourself?"</p> + +<p>"All by myself? The organization will bring it up. We'll fix up a +nursery. And I'll bring you over to work there. You like children, too. +Then it'll be our baby. We'll have it in common."</p> + +<p>Again they laughed.</p> + +<p>"But now, Grusha, I have to hurry with my packing. The train leaves +early in the morning. I'm going to my work tomorrow. I'm going to +arrange everything just as I want it. Stepan Alexeyevitch has given me +his blessing. Back to work! Grusha, do you realize the joy of that?"</p> + +<p>She seized Grusha's hands, and the two danced about the room like +children. They almost knocked over the dressmaker's model.</p> + +<p>They laughed uproariously. Even the people downstairs in the courtyard +could hear them.</p> + +<p>"We must live, Grusha! Live!"</p> + + +<p class="ph3"><span class="smcap">Finis</span></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75463 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75463-h/images/cover.jpg b/75463-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ab4098 --- /dev/null +++ b/75463-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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