.. Now I understand what she meant by saying
that I was trying to double cross her! In fact Lucie is right,--and
that's why it's maddening. I wonder what Goroshkin and Marchenko think
of me? To whom I must seem a swine! And what a bad way of her's, to
leave my letters--a present for me!
She did what she wanted, this creature of intrigues and no
personality: with "lips of fire and heart of stone." She got in me a
good guardian of her barn, a good transport agent for her Britishers
and Letts, she tangled me up in such a way that I could not report on
her, she enjoyed the privileges of local Soviet's protection through
me,--in short all she wanted.... And here I am alone from now
on,--Good-by"--that's all. She left me this little note--and a bitter
feeling that formerly I was not alone,--and now I am. For
these sensations of lonesomeness a man should never start
companionships,--whether with a woman, or a dog, or even a goldfish.
The one who is alone--is alone. The one that becomes alone--feels
doubly rotten....
"Quidquid ages--prudenter agas, et respice finem"--and I was
a fool,--here I am alone like Shelly's moon, and
"pardessus-le-marche"--robbed! Am I not an old ass?
She will laugh with her silvery laughter in somebody else's house, she
will mend somebody else's socks, and sit on somebody else's lap. The
"other chap from Monte Carlo," will be asked whether he remembers
_me_.
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