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Updated: May 23, 2025
I went over the Ekateringofsky Bridge, through the Square, and to the left down the Sadovaya. "Of course the first thing that I noticed was that there were no trams, and that there were multitudes of people walking along and that they were all poor people and all happy. And I was glad when I saw that.
What of Semyonov...? "Rat," I said, "this afternoon I am going out!" "Very well, Barin," he said, "I, too, have an engagement." In the afternoon I crept out like an old sick man. I felt strangely shy and nervous. When I reached the corner of Ekateringofsky Canal and the English Prospect I decided not to go in and see the Markovitches. For one thing I shrank from the thought of their compassion.
The Ekateringofsky Canal was blue with the stars lying like scraps of quicksilver all about it, and the trees and houses were deep black in outline above it. I could feel that the people in the street were happy.
He looked at me apprehensively. I think that I appeared to him at that time a queer, moody, ill-disposed fellow, who was too old to understand the true character of young men's impetuous souls. It may be that he was right.... "Will you come with us, Ivan Andreievitch?" Vera Michailovna asked me. "We're going to the little cinema on Ekateringofsky a piece of local colour for Mr. Bohun."
I had not far to go, but the long stretch of the Ekateringofsky Canal was black and gloomy and desolate, repeating here and there the pale yellow reflection of some lamp, but for the most part dim and dead, with the hulks of barges lying like sleeping monsters on its surface.
I took, to the derision of my few friends, two tumbledown rooms on Pilot's Island, at the far end of Ekateringofsky Prospect. Here amongst tangled grass, old, deserted boats, stranded, ruined cottages and abraided piers, I hung above the sea.
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