The Secret City

by Sir Hugh Walpole

  XIV

  Markovitch on that same afternoon came back to the flat early. He also,like Lawrence, felt the strange peace and tranquillity of the town, andit seemed inevitably like the confirmation of all his dearest hopes. TheCzar was gone, the Old Regime was gone, the people, smiling andfriendly, were maintaining their own discipline--above all, Vera hadkissed him.

  He did not go deeper into his heart and see how strained all theirrecent relations must have been for this now to give him such joy. Heleft that--it simply was that at last he and Vera understood oneanother, she had found that she cared for him after all, and that he wasnecessary to her happiness. What that must mean for their future lifetogether he simply dared not think.... It would change the world forhim. He felt like the man in the story from whom the curse is suddenlylifted....

  He walked home through the quiet town, humming to himself. He fanciedthat there was a warmth in the air, a strange kindly omen of spring,although the snow was still thick on the ground, and the Neva a greycarpet of ice.

  He came into the flat and found it empty. He went into his little roomand started on his inventions. He was so happy that he hummed to himselfas he worked and cut slices off his pieces of wood, and soaked flannelin bottles, and wrote funny little sentences in his abominablehandwriting in a red notebook.

  One need not grudge it him, poor Markovitch. It was the last happyhalf-hour of his life.

  He did not turn on his green-shaded lamp, but sat there in the gatheringdusk, chipping up the wood and sometimes stopping, idly lost in happythoughts.

  Some one came in. He peered through his little glass window and saw thatit was Nina. She passed quickly through the dining-room, beyond, towardsher bedroom, without stopping to switch on the light.

  Nina had broken the spell. He went back to his table, but he couldn'twork now, and he felt vaguely uneasy and cold. He was just going toleave his work and find the _Retch_ and settle down to a comfortableread, when he heard the hall door close. He stood behind his littleglass window and watched; it was Vera, perhaps... it must be... hisheart began eagerly to beat.

  It _was_ Vera. At once he saw that she was strangely agitated. Beforeshe had switched on the light he realised it. With a click the light wason. Markovitch had intended to open his door and go out to her, smiling.He saw at once that she was waiting for some one.... He stood,trembling, on tiptoe, his face pressed against the glass of the pane.

  Lawrence came in. He had the face, Markovitch told me many weeksafterwards, "of a triumphant man."

  They had obviously met outside, because Vera said, as though continuinga conversation:

  "And it's only just happened?"

  "I've come straight from there," Lawrence answered.

  Then he went up to her. She let herself at once go to him and he halfcarried her to a chair near the table and exactly opposite Markovitch'swindow.

  They kissed "like people who had been starving all their lives."Markovitch was trembling so that he was afraid lest he should tumble ormake some noise. The two figures in the chair were like statues in theirimmobile, relentless, unswerving embrace.

  Suddenly he saw that Nina was standing in the opposite doorway "like aghost." She was there for so brief a moment that he could not be surethat she had been there at all. Only her white, frightened face remainedwith him.

  One of his thoughts was:

  "This is the end of my life."

  Another was:

  "How could they be so careless, with the light on, and perhaps people inthe flat!"

  And after that:

  "They need it so much that they don't care who sees--Starved people...."

  And after that:

  "I'm starved too."

  He was so cold that his teeth were chattering, and he crept back fromhis window, crept into the farthest farthest corner of his little room,and crouched there on the floor, staring and staring, but seeing nothingat all.

  PART III

  MARKOVITCH AND SEMYONOV