Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/168

pages which were twitching in my hands. Then for a second—familiar, everyday faces at the door; one of them separated itself from the rest with its bulging, pinkish-brown gills. . . .

At once I recalled everything that had happened in the same room half an hour ago, and it was clear to me that they would presently . . .

All my being was shriveling and pulsating in that fortunately opaque part of my body with which I was covering the manuscript. U- came up to S-, gently plucked his sleeve, and said in a low voice:

“This is D-503, the builder of the Integral. You have probably heard of him. He always like that, at his desk—does not spare himself at all!”

. . . And I thought . . . What a dear, wonderful woman! . . .

S- slid up to me, bent over my shoulder toward the table. I covered the lines I had written with my elbow, but he shouted severely:

“Show us at once what you have there, please!”

Dying with shame, I held out the sheet of paper. He read it over, and I noticed a tiny smile jump out of his eyes, scamper down his face, and, slightly wagging its tail, perch upon the right angle of his mouth. . . .

“Somewhat ambiguous, yet. . . . Well, you may continue; we shall not disturb you any further.”

He went splashing toward the door as if in a ditch of water. And with every step of his I felt coming back to me my legs, my arms, my fingers—my soul again distributed itself evenly throughout my whole body; I breathed . . . .

The last thing: U- lingered in my room to come back to me and say right in my ear, in a whisper: "It is lucky for you that I . . .”

I did not understand. What did she mean by that? The same evening I learned that they had led away three