That evening she looked so lovely that, drunk as I was, I forgot everything in the world and firmly embraced her. She vowed that she had never loved anyone but me – and that was true: she did love me. And at the height of her vows she suddenly took it into her head to utter the hateful phrase: “I’m so unhappy! If I hadn’t married Urbenin I could marry the Count right now!” For me this phrase was like a bucket of cold water. All that had been seething within me suddenly erupted. Seized by a feeling of revulsion and despair, I grasped that small, loathsome creature by the shoulder and threw her to the ground as if she were a ball. My anger had reached boiling point. Well, I finished her… I just went and finished her… Now you’ll understand what happened with Kuzma.’
I glanced at Kamyshev. On his face I could detect neither remorse nor regret. ‘I just went and finished her’ was said as nonchalantly as ‘I just smoked a cigarette’. And I in turn was gripped by a feeling of anger and revulsion. I turned away.
‘And is this Urbenin doing hard labour in Siberia now?’ I quickly asked.
‘Well, they say he died on the way, but it hasn’t been confirmed yet. What of it?’
‘I’ll tell you what. An innocent man has suffered and all you can say is “What of it?
The Shooting Party Page 25
