BEFORE
SUNRISE
Enemies
Sunday. I go down the street. Someone calls out "Misha!"
I see a woman. She is dressed simply; she is carrying a bag of
groceries.
"Misha!" she repeats, and the tears run down her cheeks.
Before me is Nadya V.'s sister-Katya.
"Good heavens," she mutters, "It's you ... it's you... ."
My heart is thumping terribly.
"I thought you'd left!" I say. "And where's Nadya? Your
family?"
"Nadya and Marusya are in Paris ... let's go to my place
and I'll tell you everything ... but don't be surprised-I live
very simply ... my husband is a very good man ... he respects
and pities me ... he's an ordinary laborer...."
We go into
.a
little room.
A man gets up from the table. He is about forty. After
greeting me he immediately puts on his coat and goes out.
"You see how good and tactful he is," says Katya. "He
realized at once I wanted to talk to you."
We sit down on the couch. Emotion is choking us. Katya
begins
crying. She cries so loudly that someone opens the door
and asks what happened.
"Nothing," shouts Katya.
She is again shaken with sobs. She's probably crying for
what is past. She probably sees the past in me. Her youth, her
childhood. I calm her down.
Going across to the washbasin, she wipes her tearful face
, and blows her nose loudly.
Then she begins to talk. In 1917 she went to the south in–
tending to reach the Caucasus and then escape abroad. But in
Rostov she caught typhus. It was not possible to wait. Only a
few days were left. Her sisters drew lots to see who would stay
with their father. Katya stayed. She was in dire straits when her
father died. She worked as a charwoman, then as a housemaid.
