The Librarian

* * *

Gorn appeared four hours later, as she had promised. She was not alone. Masha’s jowly face peeped in round the door. Probably the orderly had been watching me in Gorn’s absence.

“How did everything go, Polina Vasilyevna?” I asked cheerfully. “Well?”

“Alles gut…” Gorn said with a nod. “Although one reading is not enough. The girls have more strength… More than enough, in fact… But they don’t have much more wits… They’ll be their old selves again in a couple of day… You’ll meet them then…” Gorn studied the desk and turned towards me. “The curious cat…”—the old woman’s voice trembled with reproach; starting with a gentle tone, it suddenly slid down to a harsh crackle, like someone stepping on spilled sugar—“… ended up dead.”

I took offence.

“I haven’t touched anything, Polina Vasilyevna. Check for yourself…”

“Too much knowledge… can be dangerous, Alyoshka… But then, who are you here? That’s right… The grandson… The future heir… Of the biggest clan of all… We’ll educate you…” She went over to the shelves and tugged on a wide cloth spine with her nail. “There—you can browse through it at your leisure. Lots of useful things…”

“What is it?” I asked, taking the loosely assembled volume out of Gorn’s hands.

“The Chronicle of the Home. And not only that… A little bit about everyone…”

I opened the cardboard cover with red corners. The close-set text had been typed on tracing paper. Blurred by carbon paper, the print was as fluffy as wool thread.

“Right, let’s go, Alyoshka, let’s go…” said Gorn, hurrying me along. “We’ll get you quarters for the night. You’re probably hungry. You can get something to eat at the same time…”