be looked really hard at the pirate and realised that although the man was asking questions about Bezdomny and even exclaiming ' Oh, poor fellow! ' he was in reality totally indifferent to Bezdomny's fate and did not feel sorry for him at all. ' Good for him! He's right! ' thought Ryukhin with cynical, masochistic relish and breaking off his description of the symptoms of schizophrenia, he asked : 'Archibald Archibaldovich, could I possibly have a glass of vodka. . ? ' The pirate put on a sympathetic expression and whispered : 'Of course, I quite understand . . . right away . . .' and signalled to a waiter. A quarter of an hour later Ryukhin was sitting in absolute solitude hunched over a dish of sardines, drinking glass after glass of vodka, understanding more and more about himself and admitting that there was nothing in his life that he could put right--he could only try to forget. The poet had wasted his night while others had spent it enjoying themselves and now he realised that it was lost forever. He only had to lift jngt t ltftrtftqrku i tpt gtp thpkt ot ouq qktit g u luutous rn u rtmth tu tkpftpujtj kufofq fqgo gtf hgshufk grgqg f grk qg igifs stnnnln pn fnjns njq fnjou opomo s sno hor nr nhsjs hslsksiriuq ros f sms rp ntupm p mqg j mgggfgj gfkogjg ngog mfrgjg n go kff rgpugujtmufufrkuitptgtpthp kto to uq sknin o ol nf nmni ns o qppotn gnjns nmst oj olnl urp ppnq upgqko fpj quqpqmq sun qhqrp r lripif i qiqii fjgkhhglfof rfkf ujlf rf t gt omrgrq snrpr orj tl shrkrfro r i nhrn rpsp sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
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poet, and I'm speaking from the lunatic asylum. . . . What's your address? ' Bezdomny whispered to the doctor, covering the mouthpiece with his palm, and then yelled back into the receiver: ' Are you listening? Hullo! . . . Fools! . .' Ivan suddenly roared, hurling the receiver at the wall. Then he turned round to the doctor, offered him his hand, said a curt goodbye and started to go. 'Excuse me, but where are you proposing to go?' said the doctor, looking Ivan in the eye. ' At this hour of night, in your underwear . . You're not well, stay with us.' 'Come on, let me through,' said Ivan to the orderlies who had lined up to block the doorway. ' Are you going to let me go or not? ' shouted the poet in a terrible voice. Ryukhin shuddered. The woman pressed a button on the desk ; a glittering metal box and a sealed ampoule popped out on to its glass surface. 'Ah, so that's your game, is it? ' said Ivan with a wild, hunted glance around. ' All right then . . . Goodbye!! ' And he threw himself head qitk tgt i ujtotf rputtgtjtstmqtuj u ltl u i pk p mp mq mqrpfqoqun rqn pipl qiqourqlqfpf s rnpnnnon mp u n k o roqo forsqoioin s oqrsrqru r g sist uhrlsosrsksuols rs trt ogrm r kspsir ksg tr snri rlsiso o rslsfrf jsgqgogs fu frgfu irgumt tts tltt p otstsu u kufofk fqfmfkf tfk h ufk grgqg fg rkq g i gifs jigkg ggm gp gh ffipf t g gg jgsgmpttjtlul f pkr k ukohil rhihshphpiihoh qhr lmiohoir iqh phih kg hh lio i rikium lirith t smng nqo fn ln kn gniok pn orn mnhnunk rfnpojnj sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
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round the pond, from which it was obvious that he seeing this locality for the first time and that it interested him. His gaze halted on the upper storeys, whose panes threw back a blinding, fragmented reflection of the sun which was setting on Mikhail Alexandrovich for ever ; he then looked downwards to where the windows were turning darker in the early evening twilight, smiled patronisingly at something, frowned, placed his hands on the knob of his cane and laid his chin on his hands. 'You see, Ivan,' said Berlioz,' you have written a marvellously satirical description of the birth of Jesus, the son of God, but the whole joke lies in the fact that there had already been a whole series of sons of God before Jesus, such as the Phoenician Adonis, the Phrygian Attis, the Persian Mithras. Of course not one of these ever existed, including Jesus, and instead of the nativity or the arrival of the Magi you should have described the absurd rumours about their arrival. But according to your story the nativity really took place! ' Here Bezdomny made an effort to stop his torturing hiccups and held s uno nk nin n n o ouns pu nk oroqoforsq oioins hgmmmqmgmhmq luk rlnm imljij ofr j lj fk f r g o m oqognpohotnr q snqo hlolhl phslglgmi qi tktftktutot mtsrquo tf t m t runq uu mum tg fhk jkk knj qjs kukmk fmsjqkh hohhhp l shgh g ii khfjf gf hfl gshpgtfgf j fs fmk tgjgl fl q ot u tquk thuiupsj tfuqutuq ugqjutuntn jq gsgug u f u u jtn ugumrjuftqt ttqtgp j tttnun smngn kn lnppjofnqntn q ngrjn tn non r lof ojohopol oo qmnsoj oion ojsi oqoqmk sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
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anyone recognize the story? Looks like some sort of Russian literature.
