I threw myself towards I-330.
“Never, never will I forgive myself! She
dared! You ... but you don’t think, do you, that you, that she.... This is all because she wants to register on me but I....”
“Fortunately she will not have time for that now. Besides, even a thousand like her.... I don’t care.... I know you will not believe that thousand but only me. For after all that happened yesterday, I am all yours, all, to the very end, as you wanted it. I am in your hands; you can now at any moment....”
“What, ‘at any moment?’” (But at once I understood what. My blood rushed to my ears and cheeks.) “Don’t speak about that, you must never speak about that! The other I, my former self ... but now....”
“How do I know? Man is like a novel: up to the last page one does not know what the end will be. It would not be worth reading otherwise.”
She was stroking my head. I could not see her face but I could tell by her voice that she was looking somewhere very far into the distance; she hooked herself to that cloud which was floating silently, slowly, no one knows where to.
Suddenly she pushed me away with her hand, firmly but tenderly.
“Listen. I came to tell you that perhaps we are now ... our last days.... You know, don’t you, that all Auditoriums are to be closed after tonight?”
“Closed?”