He had been for a walk with her in the park; he had enjoyed looking at her and had liked the way she understood him so quickly and so perfectly. He had been very touched by her childlike attentive-ness. Then they had said goodbye and he had stopped thinking about her. He had thought of her again on his way back – only to forget her once more.
Now Viktor felt that she had been with him all the time; that she had only appeared to be absent. She had been with him even when he wasn't thinking of her. Even when he hadn't seen her or thought of her, she had still been with him. He had been aware of her absence without realizing it; he hadn't known that he had constantly and unwittingly been upset by it. Today he understood himself and the people close to him very deeply; now he understood his feelings towards her. He had been glad to see her because this had brought to an end the constant ache of her absence. Now that she was with him, he felt at ease. He had felt lonely talking to his daughter, talking to his friends, to Chepyzhin, to his wife… Seeing Marya Ivanovna had been enough to bring this sense of loneliness to an end.
There was nothing surprising about this discovery; it seemed natural and self-evident. How was it he had failed to understand this a month ago, two months ago, while they were still in Kazan? And of course today, when he had felt her absence particularly strongly, this feeling had broken through to the surface and become conscious.
As it was impossible to hide anything from her, he frowned and said to her there and then: 'I thought I must be as hungry as a wolf. I kept looking at the door to see if they'd call me for lunch. But what I was really waiting for was Marya Ivanovna.'
Marya Ivanovna didn't say anything; she just walked straight through as though she hadn't heard what he said.
They introduced her to Yevgenia and she sat down next to her on the sofa. Viktor looked from Yevgenia to Marya Ivanovna, and then at Lyudmila.
How beautiful the two sisters were! There was something particularly attractive about Lyudmila today. Her face had none of the harshness that often disfigured it. Her large bright eyes looked sad and gentle.
Sensing that Marya Ivanovna was looking at her, Yevgenia straightened her hair.
'Forgive me saying this, Yevgenia Nikolaevna, but I never imagined that a woman could be so beautiful. I've never seen a face like yours.' Marya Ivanovna blushed as she said this.
'But look at her hands, Mashenka!' said Lyudmila. 'And her neck and her hair!'
'And her nostrils!' said Viktor. 'Her nostrils!'
'Do you think I'm a horse or something?' said Yevgenia. 'As if all that mattered to me.'
'The horse is off its food,' said Viktor. It was far from clear what this meant, but they all laughed.
'Do you want to eat, Vitya?' asked Lyudmila.
'No, no,' he answered. He saw Marya Ivanovna blush. So she bad heard what he'd said to her in the hall.
Marya Ivanovna sat there, as thin and grey as a little sparrow. Her forehead was slightly protuberant, she had a hairdo like a village schoolteacher's, and she wore a woollen dress patched at the elbows. To Viktor every word she spoke seemed full of intelligence, kindness and sensitivity; every movement she made was an embodiment of sweetness and grace.
Instead of talking about the meeting of the Scientific Council, she asked after Nadya. She asked Lyudmila if she could borrow The Magic Mountain. She asked Yevgenia about Vera and her little boy and what news she'd heard from Alexandra Vladimirovna in Kazan.
It took a while for Viktor to realize how unerringly Marya Ivanovna had chosen the right subjects to talk about. It was as though she were affirming that no power in the world could stop people from being people; that even the most powerful State was unable to intrude on a circle of parents, sisters and children; and that her admiration for the people she was sitting with gave her the right to talk not about what had been imposed on them from outside, but about their own inner concerns.
Marya Ivanovna had indeed chosen correctly. The women talked about Nadya and Vera's little boy and Viktor sat there in silence. He could sense the light inside him burning warmly and evenly, never flickering or growing dim.
Viktor thought Yevgenia had been conquered by Marya Ivanovna's charm. When Lyudmila and Marya Ivanovna went off to the kitchen, he said thoughtfully: 'What a charming woman!'
'Vitka! Vitka!' said Yevgenia teasingly.
He was quite taken aback. It was over twelve years since anyone had called him that.
'The young lady's head over heels in love with you.'
'Don't be stupid,' he said. 'And what do you mean – the young lady} That's the last thing one can say of her. And she's Lyudmila's only friend. She and Marya Ivanovna are very close.'
'What about you and Marya Ivanovna?' enquired Yevgenia, her eyes twinkling.
'I'm being serious,' said Viktor.
Realizing that he was angry, she looked straight at him, her eyes still full of laughter.
'You know what, Zhenechka?' said Viktor. 'You can go to hell!'
Just then Nadya came in. Still in the hall, she asked quickly: 'Has Papa gone off to repent?'
She came into the room. Viktor hugged her and gave her a kiss.
Yevgenia looked her up and down; her eyes were quite moist.
'Well,' she said, 'there isn't a single drop of Slav blood in you. You're a true Hebrew maiden.'
'Papa's genes,' said Nadya.
'You know, Nadya, I've a weakness for you,' said Yevgenia. 'Like Grandmama has for Seryozha.'
'Don't worry, Papa, we won't let you die of hunger,' said Nadya.
'What do you mean - we} You and your lieutenant?' said Viktor. 'And don't forget to wash your hands when you come back from school.'
'Who's Mama talking to?'
'Marya Ivanovna.'
'Do you like Marya Ivanovna?' asked Yevgenia.
'I think she's the best person in the whole world,' said Nadya. 'I'd like to marry her.'
'Very kind, quite angelic?' asked Yevgenia in the same mocking tone.
'Don't you like her, Aunt Zhenya?'
'I don't like saints. There's usually some kind of hysteria underneath,' said Yevgenia. 'I'd rather have an outright bitch.'
'Hysteria?' repeated Viktor.
'I was just talking in general, Viktor. I don't mean her in particular.'
Nadya went out to the kitchen. Yevgenia said to Viktor: 'Vera had a lieutenant when I was in Stalingrad. And now Nadya's got one too. Here today and gone tomorrow. They die so easily, Viktor. It's so sad.'
'Zhenechka, Zhenevyeva, do you really not like Marya Ivanovna?'
'I don't know,' she said hurriedly. 'Some women seem so accommodating, so ready to sacrifice themselves. They never say, "I'm going to bed with this man because I want to." Instead they say, "It's my duty, I pity him, I'm sacrificing myself for him." It's of her own free will that a woman like that goes to bed with a man, lives with him, or decides to leave him. But the way she explains it is very different: "I had to, it was my duty, I acted according to my conscience, I made a sacrifice, I renounced him…" And she hasn't made any sacrifice at all – she's done just as she pleased. The worst of it is that she sincerely believes in this willingness of hers to make sacrifices. I can't stand women like that. And do you know why…? Because I sometimes think I'm like that myself.'
While they were eating, Marya Ivanovna said to Yevgenia:
'Let me go with you, Yevgenia Nikolaevna. I have, sadly, got some experience of these matters. And it's always easier with someone else.'
Yevgenia looked very embarrassed.