Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/226

Rh Then, stumbling, muttering, I told him everything that is recorded in these pages About my real self, and about my hairy self, and about my hands  yes  exactly, that was the beginning  And how I lied to myself, and how she obtained false certificates for me, and how I grew worse and worse, every day, and about the long corridors underground, and there beyond the Wall

All this I threw out in formless pieces and lumps. I would stutter and fail to find words. The lips double-curved in a smile would prompt me with the word I needed, and I would nod gratefully: “Yes, yes!” Suddenly, what was it? He was talking for me, and I only listened and nodded: “Yes, yes,” and then, “Yes, exactly so, yes, yes ”

I felt cold around my mouth as though it were wet with ether, and I asked with difficulty:

“But how is it You could not learn anywhere ”

He smiled a smile growing more and more curved; then:

“But I see that you do want to conceal something from me. For example, you enumerated everything you saw beyond the Wall, but you failed to mention one thing. You deny it? But don’t you remember that once, just in passing, just for a second, you saw me there? Yes, yes, me!”

Silence.

Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, it became shamelessly clear to me: he—he, too— And everything about myself, my torment, all that I had brought here, crushed by the burden, plucking up my last strength as if performing a great feat, all appeared to me only funny—like the ancient anecdote about Abraham and Isaac: Abraham all in a cold sweat, with the knife already raised over his son, over himself, and suddenly a voice from above: “Never mind I was only joking.”

Without taking my eyes from the smile that grew more and more curved, I put my hands on the edge of the desk and slowly, very slowly pushed myself with my chair away from him. Then instantly gathering myself into my