abright-coloured, round-bellied coffee pot beside a cut glass sugar bowland two blue China cups. The guitar was lying there, too, and blue-greysmoke rose in a thin coil from a big, aromatic candle.
Kuzma Vassilyevitch went up to the sofa and bent over Colibri, butbefore he had time to utter a word she held out her hand and, stilllaughing in her handkerchief, put her little, rough fingers into hishair and instantly ruffled the well-arranged curls on the top of hishead.
"What next?" exclaimed Kuzma Vassilyevitch, not altogether pleased bysuch unceremoniousness. "Oh, you naughty girl!"
Colibri took the handkerchief from her face.
"Not nice so; better now." She moved awayto the further end of the sofa and drew her feetup under her. "Sit down ... there."
Kuzma Vassilyevitch sat down on the spot indicated.
"Why do you move away?" he said, after a brief silence. "Surely youare not afraid of me?"
Colibri curled herself up and looked at him sideways.
"I am not afraid ... no."
"You must not be shy with me," Kuzma Vassilyevitch said in anadmonishing tone. "Do you remember your promise yesterday to give me akiss?"
Colibri put her arms round her knees, laid her head on them and lookedat him again.
"I remember."
"I should hope so. And you must keep your word."
"Yes ... I must."
"In that case," Kuzma Vassilyevitch was beginning, and he movednearer.
Colibri freed her plaits which she was holding tight with her kneesand with one of them gave him a flick on his hand.
"Not so fast, sir!"
Kuzma Vassilyevitch was embarrassed.
"What eyes she has, the rogue!" he muttered, as though to himself."But," he went on, raising his voice, "why did you call me ... if thatis how it is?"
Colibri craned her neck like a bird ... she listened. KuzmaVassilyevitch was alarmed.
"Emilie?" he asked.
"No."
"Someone else?"
Colibri shrugged her shoulder.
"Do you hear something?"
"Nothing." With a birdlike movement, again Colibri drew back herlittle oval-shaped head with its pretty parting and the short growthof tiny curls on the nape of her neck where her plaits began, andagain curled herself up into a ball. "Nothing."
"Nothing! Then now I'll ..." Kuzma Vassilyevitch craned forwardtowards Colibri but at once pulled back his hand. There was a drop ofblood on his finger. "What foolishness is this!" he cried, shaking hisfinger. "Your everlasting pins! And the devil of a pin it is!" headded, looking at the long, golden pin which Colibri slowly thrustinto her sash. "It's a regular dagger, it's a sting.... Yes, yes, it'syour sting, and you are a wasp, that's what you are, a wasp, do youhear?"
Apparently Colibri was much pleased at Kuzma Vasselyevitch'scomparison; she went off into a thin laugh and repeated several timesover:
"Yes, I will sting ... I will sting."
Kuzma Vassilyevitch looked at her and thought: "She is laughing buther face is melancholy.
"Look what I am going to show you," he said aloud.
"_Tso?_"
"Why do you say _tso?_ Are you a Pole?"
"_Nee_."
"Now you say _nee!_ But there, it's no matter." KuzmaVassilyevitch got out his present and waved it in the air. "Look atit.... Isn't it nice?"
Colibri raised her eyes indifferently.
"Ah! A cross! We don't wear."
"What? You don't wear a cross? Are you a Jewess then, or what?"
"We don't wear," repeated Colibri, and, suddenly starting, looked backover her shoulder. "Would you like me to sing?" she asked hurriedly.
Kuzma Vassilyevitch put the cross in the pocket of his uniform and he,too, looked round.
"What is it?" he muttered.
"A mouse ... a mouse," Colibri said hurriedly, and suddenly to KuzmaVassilyevitch's complete surprise, flung her smooth, supple arms roundhis neck and a rapid kiss burned his cheek ... as though a red-hotember had been pressed against it.
He pressed Colibri in his arms but she slipped away like a snake--herwaist was hardly thicker than the body of a snake--and leapt to herfeet.
"Wait," she whispered, "you must have some coffee first."
"Nonsense! Coffee, indeed! Afterwards."
"No, now. Now hot, after cold." She took hold of the coffee pot by thehandle and, lifting it high, began pouring out two cups. The coffeefell in a thin, as it were, twirling stream; Colibri leaned her headon her shoulder and watched it fall. "There, put in the sugar ...drink ... and I'll drink."
Kuzma Vassilyevitch put a lump of sugar in the cup and drank it off atone draught. The coffee struck him as very strong and bitter. Colibrilooked at him, smiling, and faintly dilated her nostrils over the edgeof her cup. She slowly put it down on the table.
"Why don't you drink it?" asked Kuzma Vassilyevitch.
"Not all, now."
Kuzma Vassilyevitch got excited.
"Do sit down beside me, at least."
"In a minute." She bent her head and, still keeping her eyes fixed onKuzma Vassilyevitch, picked up the guitar. "Only I will sing first."
"Yes, yes, only sit down."
"And I will dance. Shall I?"
"You dance? Well, I should like to see that. But can't that beafterwards?"
"No, now.... But I love you very much."
"You love? Mind now ... dance away, then, you queer creature."
XXI
Colibri stood on the further side of the table and running her fingersseveral times over the strings of the guitar and to the surprise ofKuzma Vassilyevitch, who was expecting a lively, merry song, begansinging a slow, monotonous air, accompanying each separate sound,which seemed as though it were wrung out of her by force, with arhythmical swaying of her body to right and left. She did not smile,and indeed knitted her brows, her delicate, high, rounded eyebrows,between which a dark blue mark, probably burnt in with gunpowder,stood out sharply, looking like some letter of an oriental alphabet.She almost closed her eyes but their pupils glimmered dimly under thedrooping lids, fastened as before on Kuzma Vassilyevitch. And he, too,could not look away from those marvellous, menacing eyes, from thatdark-skinned face that gradually began to glow, from the half-closedand motionless lips, from the two black snakes rhythmically moving onboth sides of her graceful head. Colibri went on swaying withoutmoving from the spot and only her feet were working; she kept lightlyshifting them, lifting first the toe and then the heel. Once sherotated rapidly and uttered a piercing shriek, waving the guitar highin the air.... Then the same monotonous movement accompanied by thesame monotonous singing, began again. Kuzma Vassilyevitch satmeanwhile very quietly on the sofa and went on looking at Colibri; hefelt something strange and unusual in himself: he was conscious ofgreat lightness and freedom, too great lightness, in fact; he seemed,as it were, unconscious of his body, as though he were floating and atthe same time shudders ran down him, a sort of agreeable weaknesscrept over his legs, and his lips and eyelids tingled with drowsiness.He had no desire now, no thought of anything ... only he waswonderfully at ease, as though someone were lulling him, "singing himto bye-bye," as Emilie had expressed it, and he whispered to himself,"little doll!" At times the face of the "little doll" grew misty. "Whyis that?" Kuzma Vassilyevitch wondered. "From the smoke," he reassuredhimself. "There is such a blue smoke here." And again someone waslulling him and even whispering in his ear something so sweet ... onlyfor some reason it was always unfinished. But then all of a sudden inthe little doll's face the eyes opened till they were immense,incredibly big, like the arches of a bridge.... The guitar dropped,and striking against the floor, clanged somewhere at the other end ofthe earth.... Some very near and dear friend of Kuzma Vassilyevitch'sembraced him firmly and tenderly from behind and set his cravatstraight. Kuzma Vassilyevitch saw just before his own face the hookednose, the thick moustache and the piercing eyes of the stranger withthe three buttons on his cuff ... and although the eyes were in theplace of the moustache and the nose i
tself seemed upside down, KuzmaVassilyevitch was not in the least surprised, but, on the contrary,thought that this was how it ought to be; he was even on the point ofsaying to the nose, "Hullo, brother Grigory," but he changed his mindand preferred ... preferred to set off with Colibri to Constantinopleat once for their forthcoming wedding, as she was a Turk and the Tsarpromoted him to be an actual Turk.
XXII
And opportunely a little boat appeared: he lifted his foot to get intoit and though through clumsiness he stumbled and hurt himself ratherbadly, so that for some time he did not know where anything
Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories Page 20
