Artzybashev, Mikhail Petrovich, 1878-1927 / 2008-06-10 00:00:00


"Have you got any cigarettes?" asked Sanine, delighted at his mother's
departure.
Novikoff with a lazy movement of his large body produced a cigarette-
case.
"You ought not to tease her so," said he, in a voice of gentle reproof.
"She's an old lady."
"How have I teased her?"
"Well, you see--"
"What do you mean by 'well, you see?' It is she who is always after me.
I have never asked anything of anybody, and therefore people ought to
leave me alone."
Both remained silent.
"Well, how goes it, doctor?" asked Sanine, as he watched the tobacco-
smoke rising in fantastic curves above his head.
Novikoff, who was thinking of something else, did not answer at once.
"Badly."
"In what way?"
"Oh! in every way. Everything is so dull and this little town bores me
to death. There's nothing to do."
"Nothing to do? Why it was you that complained of not having time to
breathe!"
"That is not what I mean. One can't be always seeing patients, seeing
patients. There is another life besides that."
"And who prevents you from living that other life?"
"That is rather a complicated question.
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