Chapter 17 "Anonymous Stories" Sixteen

sixteen It happened in Nice and it was already autumn.One morning, when I went to her room, she was sitting in an armchair, with one leg crossed over the other, hunched over, thin, and covering her face with her hands, weeping bitterly. Her long combed hair fell to her knees.I had just seen a wonderful seascape, and was about to tell her my impressions, when they suddenly left me, and my heart constricted with pain. "What's wrong with you?" I asked.She moved one hand away from her face and waved me to get out. "Why, what's the matter with you?" I repeated, kissing her hand for the first time during our acquaintance.

"No, no, nothing," she said quickly. "Oh, nothing, nothing. ...you go.You see, I haven't washed yet. " I walked out very nervously.My mind, long peaceful and carefree, was now disturbed by sympathy.I wanted to throw myself at her feet, and beg her not to weep alone, but to share her pain with me.The steady splash of the sea was ringing in my ears like an ominous prophecy, and I saw that there would be tears, sorrow, and loss to come.Why is she crying, why?I asked myself, remembering her face and her pained eyes.I remembered that she was pregnant.She tried her best to conceal her pregnancy, both from outsiders and from herself.At home, she wears baggy smocks or tops with lots of ruffles on the chest.When she went out, she always had her waist tightly constricted, and twice when I walked with her, she fainted.She never talked to me about her pregnancy, and once I mentioned briefly that she might as well see a doctor, she blushed and said nothing.

Later I went to see her in her room, and she was already dressed and combed her hair. "Come on, come on!" I said when I saw that she was about to cry again. "We'd better go to the beach and talk." "I can't talk. I'm sorry, I just want to be alone in my mood. Vladimir Ivanovich, next time you come to see me, please knock on the door first." The word "in advance" sounds a little special, not like a woman's tone.I go out.The cursed Petersburg mood returned, and all my dreams withered and shrunk like leaves in the hot sun.I felt alone again, and the intimacy between us was gone.I am to her as a spider's web is to a palm tree, which occasionally hangs on a tree, and is torn apart by the wind and blown away.I was walking in the small park where the music was playing, and then I walked into the casino and looked at the women who were dressed in colorful clothes and smelled a lot of fragrance, and each of them glanced at me, as if to say: "You are alone , that would be great..." Then I went out on the terrace and looked at the ocean for a long time.In the distance where the water and the sky meet, there is no boat, and on the left coast, a lavender mist covers the mountains, gardens, towers, and houses.The sun shines on it all, yet all these things seem strange, indifferent, a mess. ...