No one at all? Not Vera nor
Nina nor Jeremy nor Bohun? Not young Bohun even...? And then slowly my
brain realised that there was now a new world. None of the old
conditions held any longer.
We had been the victims of an earthquake. Now it was--every man for
himself! Quickly then there came upon me an eager desire to know what
had happened in the Markovitch family. What of Jerry and Vera? What of
Nicholas? What of Semyonov...?
"Rat," I said, "this afternoon I am going out!"
"Very well, Barin," he said, "I, too, have an engagement."
In the afternoon I crept out like an old sick man. I felt strangely shy
and nervous. When I reached the corner of Ekateringofsky Canal and the
English Prospect I decided not to go in and see the Markovitches. For
one thing I shrank from the thought of their compassion. I had not
shaved for many days. I was that dull sickly yellow colour that offends
the taste of all healthy vigorous people. I did not want their pity.
No.... I would wait until I was stronger.
My interest in life was reviving with every step that I took. I don't
know what I had expected the outside world to be.
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