Free We the Living by Ayn Rand Page A

earnestly to her discourses on the simple faith; but he always managed to sit next to Kira.
    On the evening of October tenth, Victor came late. It was nine o’clock when the sound of the door bell made Lydia dash eagerly to the little anteroom.
    “Sorry. So terribly, terribly sorry,” Victor apologized, smiling, hurling his cold overcoat on a chair, raising Lydia’s hand to his lips and patting his unruly hair with a quick glance in the mirror, all within the space of one second. “Detained at the Institute. Students’ Council. I know this is an indecent hour to visit, but I promised Kira a ride around the city and . . .”
    “It’s perfectly all right, Victor dear,” Galina Petrovna called from the dining room. “Come in and have some tea.”
    The tiny flame floating in linseed oil quivered with every breath, as they sat at the table. Five huge shadows rose to the ceiling; the feeble glow drew a triangle of light under the five pairs of nostrils. Tea gleamed green through heavy glasses cut out of old bottles.
    “I heard, Victor,” Galina Petrovna whispered confidentially, like a conspirator, “I heard—on good authority—that this NEP of theirs is only the beginning of many changes. The beginning of the end. Next they’re going to return houses and buildings to former owners. Think of it! You know our house on Kamenostrovsky, if only. . . . The clerk in the co-operative is the one who told me about it. And he has a cousin in the Party, he ought to know.”
    “It is highly probable,” Victor stated with authority, and Galina Petrovna smiled happily.
    Alexander Dimitrievitch poured himself another glass of tea; he looked at the sugar, hesitated, looked at Galina Petrovna, and drank his tea without sugar. He said sullenly: “Times aren’t any better. They’ve called their secret police G.P.U. instead of Cheka, but it’s still the same thing. Do you know what I heard at the store today? They’ve just discovered another anti-Soviet conspiracy. They’ve arrested dozens of people. Today they arrested old Admiral Kovalensky, the one who was blinded in the war, and they shot him without trial.”
    “Nothing but rumors,” said Victor. “People like to exaggerate.”
    “Well, anyway, it’s becoming easier to get food,” said Galina Petrovna. “We got the nicest lentils today.”
    “And,” said Lydia, “I got two pounds of millet.”
    “And,” said Alexander Dimitrievitch, “I got a pound of lard.”
    When Kira and Victor rose to go, Galina Petrovna accompanied them to the door.
    “You’ll take care of my child, won’t you, Victor dear? Don’t stay out late. Streets are so unsafe these days. Do be careful. And, above all, don’t speak to any strangers. There are such odd types around nowadays.”

    The cab rattled through silent streets. Wide, smooth, empty sidewalks looked like long canals of gray ice, luminous under the tall lamp posts that swam, jerking, past the cab. At times, they saw the black circle of a shadow on the bare sidewalk; over the circle, a woman in a very short skirt stood swaying a little on fat legs in tightly laced shoes. Something like the black silhouette of a windmill wavered down the sidewalk; over it—a sailor tottered unsteadily, waving his arms, spitting sunflower seeds. A heavy truck thundered by the cab, bristling with bayonets; among the bayonets, Kira saw the flash of a white face, pierced by two holes of dark, frightening eyes.
    Victor was saying: “A modern man of culture must preserve an objective viewpoint which, no matter what his personal convictions, enables him to see our time as a tremendous historical drama, a moment of gigantic importance to humanity.”
    “Nonsense,” said Kira. “It is an old and ugly fact that the masses exist and make their existence felt. This is a time when they make it felt with particular ugliness. That’s all.”
    “This is a rash, unscientific viewpoint, Kira,” said Victor, and went on talking about the esthetic value