Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/191

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Record Thirty-Two
179

A voice from the group of empty raised heads:

“Yes. I repeat it, yes.”

“Well, what do you think of that? Oh, what a delirium!” The word “delirium” came out of her mouth so full of conviction, so unbending, that I asked myself: “Perhaps it really was nothing but delirium, all that has been going on around me lately.” I glanced at my hairy hand, and I remembered: “There are, undoubtedly, some drops of that blood of the sun and woods in you. That is why perhaps you . . .” No, fortunately it was not delirium; or no, unfortunately it was not delirium.

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