Dmitri and the Milk-Drinkers

This examination was not going the way he had intended.

‘Tell me about her friends,’ he said firmly. ‘Did she have a boyfriend, for instance?’

‘Oh, Dmitri Alexandrovich!’ she cried, and collapsed in a fit of giggles.

The door at the end of the room opened slightly. It was that bitch of a mother, he was sure.

Nettled, he moved closer to Larissa Philipovna. She was not altogether unattractive. Or, at least, she wouldn’t be in about ten years’ time. Physically, that was. Mentally, of course …

‘Dmitri Alexandrovich!’

‘Would you care for some tea, Dmitri Alexandrovich?’ said the bitch of a mother, coming definitely into the room.

Vera Samsonova, tracked down at last to the small room she used as a dispensary, regarded him unwelcomingly.

‘Yes?’

Dmitri declared himself.

‘I’m sorry I missed you last night,’ he said.

‘You didn’t miss me. I didn’t go.’

‘I thought that Sonya – ’

‘She asked me. I wasn’t free.’

‘Oh.’

‘In any case, I probably wouldn’t have gone.’

‘Oh, that’s a pity. Why not, may I ask?’

‘I think such gatherings are a bit beside the point,’ said Vera Samsonova. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Beside what point?’ asked Dmitri cautiously.

‘If you’re looking for intellectual involvement you’re not going to find it there.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. The people are very agreeable – ’

‘Agreeable,’ said Vera Samsonova, ‘but not very interesting.’

‘Considering that we live in Kursk – ’ Dmitri began.

‘It’s not where they live,’ said Vera Samsonova, ‘it’s the kind of people they are. Dilettante. And naturally they want to talk about dilettante-ish things.’

‘Art?’ said Dmitri, annoyed. ‘Culture? Where Russia is going?’

‘Perhaps the subjects are not dilettante,’ Vera conceded. ‘It’s just the way they are talked about.’

‘Ah, well, there I agree with you – ’

‘In terms of generalities. You ask where Russia is going; not what it ought to be doing about sewage.’

‘Sewage!’

‘Yes, sewage. And farming and engineering and taxation – ’

‘Taxation!’

‘Taxation.’

‘Boring!’ said Dmitri, rallying.

‘Real!’ said Vera Samsonova defiantly.

‘Absolute nonsense!’

‘You see?’ said Vera. ‘Prejudiced!’

‘Not prejudiced at all,’ said Dmitri: ‘rational. And surely these things can be discussed rationally. That’s the point of our gatherings.’

‘You’ve got the wrong people there,’ said Vera. ‘You ought to have surveyors and agronomists – ’

‘Sewage experts?’

‘Certainly.’

‘You’ll be saying doctors next!’

Vera considered. Then, unexpectedly, her face dimpled and broke into a smile. Up till now, Dmitri had attributed to her all the charm of a pair of scissors.

‘Well, perhaps not doctors. At least, not the kind of doctors we have in Kursk!’

‘There you are! Come and give us a chance to argue your points.’

‘Maybe. It would certainly be better than arguing them here. Now, look, I’ve got work to do. Haven’t you?’

‘I’m doing it,’ said Dmitri, injured. ‘I’m here on business.’

‘You are? Well, it’s a pretty relaxed kind of business compared with mine, I can tell you. Or perhaps it’s just that our approaches are different. You prefer a more general one. What was it exactly that you came for?’

‘I came to ask about Anna Semeonova.’

Vera Samsonova put down the burette she had been holding and turned to give him her full attention.

‘Has she been found?’