Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/160

Rh With all my might I pressed the hand of I-330. She turned to me.

“What is the matter?”

“He is here! I thought, I—”

“Who?”

“S-, a second ago, in the crowd.”

The ends of the thin, coal-black brows moved to the temples—a smile like a sharp triangle. I could not see clearly why she smiled. How could she smile?

“But you understand, I-330, don’t you, you understand what it means if he, or one of them, is here?”

“You are funny! How could it ever enter the heads of those within the Wall that we are here? Remember; take yourself. Did you ever think it was possible? They are busy hunting us there—let them! You are delirious!”

Her smile was light and cheerful and I, too, was smiling; the earth was drunken, cheerful, light, floating