MARINA TSVETAEVA
521
wouldn't have realized I've been waiting a long time - a monstrously
long time.
"Well then Miss, what'll it be, will you let me go or not? I still
have to go to Pokrovskaia."
"I'll pay you extra."
The quiet terror that he'll up and leave: my last bit of life is in
him; the last bit of life
until.
. . .
However, setting down my things
I
open my purse: three, ten, twelve, seventeen rubles ....
I
need fif–
ty. Where will
I
get them if. ... Footsteps. The sound of one door
and then another. The entry door opens now. A woman in a scarf, a
stranger.
Not giving her a chance to speak,
I
ask:
"Are you the new maid?"
"Yes."
"Has the master been killed?"
"He's alive."
"Wounded?"
"No."
"But how? Where has he been all this time?"
"In Alexandrovsky with the cadets. - What a terrible fright
we've had. Praise God, the Lord had mercy. Only they've gotten
awfully thin. Right now they're on N-sky St. with friends. The little
ones are there and the Master's sisters ...
All
healthy, well and
safe, just waiting for you."
"Would you have 33 rubles to pay the cabby?"
"Goodness gracious, of course - we'll just bring in your things."
We bring in my things, let the cabby go, and Dunya offers to
accompany me. I grab one of two loaves of Crimean bread to bring
with me. We go. Ravaged Povarskaia. Cobblestones. Potholes. The
sky grows a bit lighter. Bells.
We turn into a side street. A seven-story house. I ring. Two
people in fur coats and hats. In the striking of a match - the gleam of
a pince-nez. The match right in my face.
ing!"
"What is it?"
"I've just arrived from the Crimea and I want to see my family."
"But this is unheard of-bursting into a house at 6 in the morn-
"I want to see my family."
"You'll get there all in good time. Come back around 9 o'clock
and then we'll see."
At this point the maid steps in.
"What's wrong with you gentlemen, they have small children,
