26
PARTISAN REVIEW
last time he was allowed abroad had been five years ago ; the next
time would probably never be. He needed an evening like that, just
one evening like that, more than he needed anything in life. He could
only go to Monsieur Anatole's if he finished the cable. Well then, he
was going to finish it, even if all the synapses burst under the strain.
Let them burst. . . .
His clenched fists were straining against the lining of the pockets.
He turned round to go back to the desk. Suddenly he felt something
give way under the tense downward pressure of his right fist. The
strain had been too much for the dressing-gown ; the seam of the
right pocket had burst open. In twenty years this had never happened
before. He looked at the loose, torn pocket in alarm verging on panic,
and at the same moment heard the telephone ring. He covered the
pocket with his hand, like a wound, and lifted the receiver. The de–
ferential voice of the hall porter announced that there was a messen–
ger downstairs who insisted on seeing him personally about a cable.
"Tell him to wait," said Leontiev. "The cable will be ready in half an
hour." "Yes, sir," said the porter, "what cable, sir? He says he has
got a cable on him and that he has been told to deliver it personally."
For a second Leontiev's mind did not connect. Then he told
the porter to send the messenger up; then hesitated. "Yes, sir. Any–
thing else, sir?" asked the porter. "Yes," said Leontiev. "I want a
needle and some thread." "Something to repair, sir? I'll send the
valet at once." "I don't want your valet," said Leontiev. "I want a
needle and thread." He hung up; the idea of having a valet tinker
with Zina's dressing-gown was insupportable. He examined the torn
pocket and found that not only had the seam burst but that there
was also a rent in the fabric. This gave his premonition of an im–
pending catastrophe the seal of certainty. When he heard the messen–
ger's knock at the door, he knew already the nature of the catastro–
phe; or at least it seemed to him afterward that he had known. At
any rate, he could remember no feeling of surprise when he read
the short message stating that his wife had died that morning "from
internal hemorrhage following a motor car accident." The message
had arrived on ticker-tape of the Commonwealth News Agency half
an hour ago. The head of the Agency had sent it along accompanied
by a covering note which read:
"Deep regrets. Under the circumstances we don't want to trouble
