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Left alone with me, Agafya coughed and passed her hand several times over her forehead.... She began to feel a little drunk from the vodka. "How are you getting on, Agasha?" I asked her, after a long silence, when it began to be awkward to remain mute any longer. "Very well, thank God.... Don't tell anyone, sir, will you?" she added suddenly in a whisper. "That's all right," I reassured her.
The river, the copse, both banks, green and washed, trees and fields all were bathed in bright morning light. Through the slim trunks of the trees the rays of the newly risen sun beat upon my back. "So that's how you catch fish?" laughed Savka. "Get up!" I got up, gave a luxurious stretch, and began greedily drinking in the damp and fragrant air. "Has Agasha gone?" I asked.
Our real exhilaration from one glass of wine is gone for ever, gone is Agasha, gone the bream with boiled grain, gone the uproar that greeted every little startling incident at dinner, such as the cat and dog fighting under the table, or Katya's bandage falling off her face into her soup-plate. To describe our dinner nowadays is as uninteresting as to eat it.
As a matter of fact, as we speak, I am receiving a telepathic message from a William Eisen who now resides in Oz. He reminds me that while in America he brought forth some of my philosophy in written documents entitled Agasha: Master of Wisdom and The Agashan Discourses. These works were written for adults, but older children who have an advanced understanding may appreciate them, too. Mr.
Agafya, intoxicated by the vodka, by Savka's scornful caresses, and by the stifling warmth of the night, was lying on the earth beside him, pressing her face convulsively to his knees. She was so carried away by her feelings that she did not even notice my arrival. "Agasha, the train has been in a long time," I said.
A silence followed. Her eyes strayed irritably and suspiciously over all our faces. Agasha, her favourite maid, came in. "Bring me my check shawl, the one I bought in Geneva. What's Darya Pavlovna doing?" "She's not very well, madam." "Go and ask her to come here. Say that I want her particularly, even if she's not well."
Is that your calf in the rye, Iliusha?" she said in passing to a peasant, while her attention already wandered to the pond. "There they are again, hanging out the clothes on the trees," she remarked angrily to the village elder. "I have given orders for a line to be fixed. Tell blind Agasha so. It is she that likes to hang her things out on the willows. The branches will break...."
"But how reckless you are, Agasha!... What if Yakov finds out?" "He won't find out." "But what if he does?" "No... I shall be at home before he is. He is on the line now, and he will come back when the mail train brings him, and from here I can hear when the train's coming...." Agafya once more passed her hand over her forehead and looked away in the direction in which Savka had vanished.
Shall we have another drop of vodka, friend Agasha?" I got up and, threading my way between the plots, I walked the length of the kitchen garden. The dark beds looked like flattened-out graves. They smelt of dug earth and the tender dampness of plants beginning to be covered with dew.... A red light was still gleaming on the left. It winked genially and seemed to smile. I heard a happy laugh.
You and I and, indeed, all expressions of what you might refer to as life will continue on, for life is eternal. It has always existed, and it always will exist. The physical expression is only a temporary condition. By the way, in our haste we forgot to introduce ourselves. My name is Agasha, and my brother here is Araskus. Your world will, no doubt, be reading more about us.
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