shook hands with him, but did not kiss him. Romashka, too, only shook
hands with him. Nikolai Antonich passed an eye over the platform party
and first greeted the Head of the City Educational Department.
Romashka followed suit, the only difference being that Romashka,
oddly enough, carried himself more confidently, with greater assurance.
Nikolai Antonich did not notice me. That is, he made believe I was not
there. But Romashka on drawing level with me, stopped and threw his
hands up in mock surprise, as much as to say: 'If that isn't Grigoriev!'
As if I had never kicked him in his ugly face.
'Hullo, Romashka!' I said casually.
He winced, but the next moment pretended that we were old friends
who were entitled to call each other 'Sanya' and 'Romashka'. He sat
down next to me and began talking, but I checked him rather
contemptuously and turned away as though listening to Tania.
But I was not listening to Tania. Everything in me was boiling and
seething, and it was only by an effort of will that I was able to keep a
composed face.
After the meeting the guests were invited to table. Romashka overtook
me in the corridor.
'The affair went on splendidly, didn't it?'
Even his voice had become mellower.
'Yes.'
'It's a pity, really, that we meet so rarely. After all we're old friends.
Where do you work?'
'In civil aviation.'
'So I see,' he said laughing. 'I meant 'where' territorially.'
'In the Far North.'
'Yes, of course! I'd quite forgotten. Katya told me. At Zapolarie.'
Katya! Katya had told him. I grew hot, but answered in a calm voice:
'Yes, Zapolarie.'
After a pause, he asked guardedly: 'Are you here for long?'
'I don't know yet.' My reply, too, was guarded. 'Depends on a lot of
things.'
I was pleased with myself for having answered so calmly and
guardedly, and from that moment I fully recovered my composure. I
became cold and courteous, cunning as a snake.
'Katya told me you were going to read a paper. At the Scientists' Club,
I believe?'
'No, the Geographical Society.'
Romashka eyed me with pleasure. He looked as if I'd made him happy
by saying I was going to read the paper at the Geographical Society and
not at the Scientists' Club. And so he was, though I didn't know it at the
time.
'What's it about?'
'Come and hear it,' I said coolly. 'You'll find it interesting.'
188
He winced again, this time markedly.
'Yes,' he said, 'I'll have to make a note not to miss it.' And he began
to write in his pocket diary. 'What's the paper called?'
'A Forgotten Polar Expedition.'
'I say, isn't that about Ivan Lvovich's expedition?'
'Captain Tatarinov's expedition,' I said dryly.
But he affected not to hear my correction.
'Some new information?'
The crafty gleam in his eyes told me at once what it was all about.
'Aha, you rat,' I said to myself. 'Nikolai Antonich put you up to this.
Wanted you to find out whether I intend to prove again that it was he,
and not some von Vyshimirsky or other, who is to blame for the disaster
which overtook the expedition.'
'Yes, new information,' I said.
Romashka looked at me closely. For a fleeting moment I saw the old
Romashka, calculating what per cent of profit would work out if I let the
cat out of the bag.
'By the way,' he said, 'Nikolai Antonich also has some interesting
documents concerning that expedition. He has a lot of letters, some of
them very interesting. He has shown them to me. Why not get him to
show them to you?'
'I see,' I said to myself. 'Nikolai Antonich has asked you to bring us
together to talk this matter over. He's afraid of me. But he wants me to
take the first step. Nothing doing!'
'Well, no,' I answered casually. 'He doesn't know much about it,
really. Oddly enough, I know more about his own part in the expedition
than he does himself.'
This was a well-directed blow, and Romashka, who was a dimwit for
all that he had greatly developed, suddenly opened his mouth and stared
at me dumbly.
'Katya, Katya,' I thought, my heart sore on her account and my own.
'Well, well, so that's how it is,' Romashka muttered.
'That's how it is.'
We had approached the table and our conversation came to an end. I
sat through the evening with difficulty and only did so for Korablev's
sake, so as not to hurt his feelings. I felt out of sorts and would have
liked to down a few drinks but I took only one glass—to the hero of the
day. It was Romashka who proposed the toast. He stood up and waited
for a long time in dignified patience for the noise at the table to subside.
A self-satisfied expression crossed his face when he delivered himself of
a well-turned phrase. He said something about 'the friendship which
links all the pupils of our dear teacher'. He turned to me when he said
this, and raised his glass to show that he was drinking to me too. I
politely raised my own glass. My own expression must have been none
too amiable, because Korablev looked closely first at him, then at me,
and suddenly-for the moment I couldn't remember what it meant—laid
his hand on the table and motioned to it with his eyes. The fingers began
drumming on the table. It was our old pre-arranged signal warning me
to keep cool. We both laughed at the same time, and I cheered up a bit.
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