read a letter once,' she whispered slyly, looking round as if Katya might
see her. 'They must have become friends at Ensk when Katya was there
for her holidays. His sister. And she writes: 'He keeps asking me in every
letter, where is Katya, what's the matter with her, I'd give everything to
see her. He can't live without you and I can't understand what this
quarrel of yours is about.' '
'Excuse me, Nina Kapitonovna, I didn't get you. Whose sister?'
'Whose? Why, that chap. That friend of yours.' Korablev darted a look
in my direction, and I met his eyes through a hole in the curtain. My
sister? Sanya?
'Well, I suppose that's how it really is,' said Korablev. 'Very likely he
can't live without her. I shouldn't be surprised.'
' 'He keeps asking',' Nina Kapitonovna repeated pointedly, 'And 'he
can't live without you'. There! And she can't live without him.'
Korablev again glanced in my direction. I fancied a smile lurking in his
moustache. 'Yet she thinks of marrying another.'
'Nothing of the kind. He isn't of her choice. She has no use for that
Romashov fellow. No more have I. That holy Joe.' 'Holy Joe?'
'That's what he is. Full o' taradiddle too. Whatever you tell him he's
sure to add something to it right away. Thievish too.' 'Surely not, Nina
Kapitonovna!'
'Thievish, I say. He took forty rubles from me, said it was to buy a
present, and never gave it back. I didn't remind him, of course. And
such a busybody, so nosy. My God! If it wasn't for my age—' She waved
her hand with a rueful gesture.
You can imagine what my feelings were as I listened to this
conversation! I looked at the old lady through the hole in the curtain,
and that hole was like a lens in which everything that had happened
195
between Katya and me was focussed, becoming clearer and clearer every
minute. Everything came nearer and fell into place, and there was such
a lot of it and all so good that my heart began to quiver, and I realised
that I was terribly excited. The only thing I couldn't understand was
this: I had never 'kept asking' my sister and had never written to her
that 'I could not live without Katya'.
'Sanya made that up, that's what it is,' I said to myself. 'She was
fibbing. Yet it was all true.'
Nina Kapitonovna was still speaking, but I was no longer listening. I
had forgotten myself to such an extent that I began to walk up and down
my 'bookcase' and only recollected myself when I heard Korablev's
warning cough.
And there I sat in the 'bookcase' until Nina Kapitonovna went away. I
don't know why she had come-maybe it was just to unburden her heart,
Korablev kissed her hand at parting and she kissed him on the brow, the
way they had always done when taking leave of each other.
I was lost in thought and did not hear him come back into the room
until suddenly I saw his nose and moustache above me between the
curtains.
'Still breathing?'
'Still breathing, Ivan Pavlovich.'
'What have you to say?'
'That I'm a hopeless, drivelling idiot,' I answered, clutching my head.
'The way I spoke to her! My God! I did not understand a thing. Not a
thing! And she was waiting for me to say something. What must her
feelings have been, Ivan Pavlovich! What does she think of me!'
'Never mind, she'll change her mind.'
'Never! Do you know what I told her? ' I said to her: 'I'll keep you
informed.'
Korablev laughed.
'Ivan Pavlovich!'
'But didn't you write that you couldn't live without her?'
'I didn't!' I cried despairingly. 'Sanya made that all up. But it's true,
Ivan Pavlovich! It's the absolute truth. I can't live without her, and the
quarrel between us is really over nothing, because I thought she didn't
love me any more. But what's to be done now? What's to be done?'
'Look here, Sanya, I have a business appointment at nine o'clock. At a
theatre. So if you-'
'All right. I'm going. May I call on Katya now?'
'She'll show you the door, and she'll be quite right.'
'I don't care if she does, Ivan Pavlovich!' I said, and suddenly
embraced him. 'Damn и all, I just don't know what to do now. What do
you say?'
'I have to change just now,' Korablev said, going into the 'bookcase'.
'As for you, I suggest you pull yourself together.'
I saw him take off his jacket, turn up the collar of his soft shirt and
start tying his tie.
'Ivan Pavlovich!' I suddenly yelled. 'Wait a minute. I quite forgot!
You said I was right when we argued about whom the Captain's letter
referred to.'
'I did.'
'Ivan Pavlovich!'
196
Korablev came out of the 'bookcase' brushed and combed, in a new
grey suit, looking young and presentable.
'Now, we're going to the theatre,' he said gravely, 'and you'll learn
everything. Your job will be to sit and say nothing. Sit and listen. Is that
clear?'
'I'm all in the dark. But let's go.'
CHAPTER FIVE
AT THE THEATRE
The Moscow Drama Theatre! To judge from Grisha Faber's
description, it was a big, real playhouse in which all the actors wore
smart white spats like he did and spoke just as loudly and well.
Something like the Moscow Art Theatre. But it turned out to be a little
