246
VLADIMIR DUDINTSEV
"You are verifying your suspicion?" he asked me, recover–
ing himself.
"You are very rash," I replied.
"I am not frightened of you," he answered, returning to his
apparatus.
Now that I had established what I had merely suspected
before, several other things (about which I shall keep silent
until the right time) were at once clear to me.
A short while before this episode, I had come to realize
that I was the object of inexplicable attention on the part of
a certain individual. A certain shadowy figure dogged me cease–
lessly through the streets of the city and watched me from a
distance. I had not once succeeded in making out my pursuer's
face even though he showed no hurry to get out of sight. He
(or she) usually selected dark arcades or gateways as
his
point
of observation. Sometimes he stepped into the sunlight but, as
soon as I put my hand into my pocket- to get my glasses-the
fellow would stealthily remove himself behind an arcade. On
several occasions, I approached those gateways or entrances
where this individual, so attentive to me, was hiding, but never
found anyone. Not so very long ago we had our first fall of soft,
clean snow. Late one evening, as I was walking through the
deserted street, I caught the sound of footsteps behind my back
and, before I had time to tum round, I realized that it was my
shadower (man or woman). I turned and saw something in the
nature of a cape or the tails of a dress suit flashing round the
comer. I dashed in pursuit like a madman and, when I turned
the comer, saw merely a white deserted side-street. I examined
the snow without finding any footprints. True, I later recalled
noticing in the light airy snow several rapidly melting cruciform
prints which resembled the traces of a huge chicken's claw.
In the basement, I recounted all this in whispers to my
colleague. He squeezed my hand and said: "I have observed a
thing or two myself. You must go now. I have to hurry.
As
you
see, my time is pushing me on. Yes, and it wouldn't do you any
