16
PARTISAN REVIEW
reason Mostovskoy found it terrible to look at. He had a snub nose,
alert dark grey eyes, a high forehead and thin pale cheeks that made
him look industrious and ascetic.
Liss waited while Mostovskoy cleared his throat and then said:
"I'd like to talk to you."
"But 1 don't want to talk to you," answered Mostovskoy. He
looked sideways into the far corner, waiting for Liss's assistants, the
torturers, to emerge and give him a blow on the ear.
"I quite understand," said Liss. "Sit down."
He seated Mostovskoy in the armchair and then sat down next
to him.
Liss spoke in the lifeless, ash-cold language of a popular scien-
tific pamphlet.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Mostovskoy shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
"Yes, yes, 1 know. 1 sent the doctor to you and he told me. I've
disturbed you in the middle of the night. But 1 want to talk to you
very badly ."
"Oh yes," thought Mostovskoy.
"I've been summoned for interrogation," he said out loud. "There's
nothing for us to talk about."
"Why do you say that?" asked Liss. "All you see is my uniform.
But 1 wasn't born in it. The Fuhrer and the Party command; the
rank and file obey. 1 was always a theoretician. I'm a Party member,
but my real interest lies in questions of history and philosophy. Surely
not all the officers in your NKVD love the Lubyanka?"
Mostovskoy watched Liss's face carefully. He thought for a mo–
ment that this pale face with the high forehead should be drawn at
the very bottom of the tree of evolution; from there evolution would
progress towards hairy Neanderthal man .
"If
the Central Committee orders you to step up the work of the
Cheka, are you in a position to refuse? You put Hegel aside and get
working. Well, we've had to put Hegel aside too."
Mostovskoy glanced at Liss. Pronounced by unclean lips, the
name of Hegel sounded strange and blasphemous ... A dangerous,
experienced thief had corne up to him in a crowded tram and started
a conversation . He wasn't going to listen, he was just going to watch
the thief's hands - any minute now a razor might flash out and slash
him across the eyes.
But Liss just lifted up the palms of his hands, looked at them
and said: "Our hands are like yours. They love great work and
they're not afraid of dirt."
