Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/209

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
Record Thirty-Five
197

Her lower lip turned out like the lip of that boy and her face . . . tears were running down her cheeks.

“Because I . . . I was afraid that if I did you might . . . you would stop lov— Oh, I cannot, I could not!”

I understood. It was the truth. Absurd, ridiculous, human truth. I opened the door.

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.