"Forgive me," I said to her.
She kissed me. "God will forgive you."
Here the old woman knocked on the door and whispered:
"It is time to part. They will ring matins soon." When she led me along the corridors she said:
"Will you give me a ruble?"
I could have struck her.
I lived about five days with Christa. It was impossible to stay longer, for the choir singer and the neophyte began to bother me too much. Besides, I felt the need of being alone to reflect on this incident.
How could they forbid women to bear children if such was their wish, and if children have been and always will be the harbingers of a new life, the bearers of new strength?
There was another reason for my having to fly. Christa showed me her friend. She was a slim young girl, with blonde curly hair and blue eyes and resembled my Olga. Her little face was pure, and she looked out upon the world with profound sadness. I was drawn toward her, and Christa urged me on.
But this was a different matter. Christa was no longer a girl; but Julia was innocent, and her husband should also be innocent.