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Authors: Iris Murdoch
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down the path.
Someone touched my arm and I found that Levkin was following me. I felt irritated and absurdly guilty at his having discovered me watching the sleeping pair. I walked faster and he still followed a pace or two behind. He touched me again.
‘How did you know about them?’
‘I didn’t know about them. I heard your sister out on the lawn crying and I followed her.’
‘Yes, she goes often at night. She thinks that she is a ghost, to haunt the house. But she is not sad. I think she suits your brother. Is it not so?’
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’ I kept walking on, not looking at him.
‘But it will be to do with you. For you will stay with us now? You will stay and help us?’
‘Go away,’ I said. I loathed his tone of voyeur-like complicity. I wanted to forget Otto and his greasy enchantress, they were no business of mine.
‘They sleep well, don’t they? You could watch them all night. It is the drink I believe. Was my sister long asleep? Do you think she is beautiful?’ He plucked at my sleeve again.
I turned to face him.’ Levkin, I have no wish to discuss with you the affairs of my brother or your sister.’
‘The affair! The affair!’ he said excitedly. ‘And my name is pronounced Lyevkin, Lyevkin. It means “little lion” in Russian, and I am called that. At least you may say it means so, for you see a lion is in Russian lyev …’
I walked on. He followed and then started chattering again. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day, Mr Edmund? A fine clear morning. I love these mornings when I come over to wake them. So beautiful. A philosopher says it is our greatest crime, to ignore the beauty of the world.’
‘Clear off.’
‘May I show you my paintings, Mr Edmund? I work as a stone cutter. But really I am a painter. And you too are a painter –’
I stopped and faced him again. There was something menacing and unpleasant about all this chatter and I wondered if he were putting on some kind of act. I disliked his glee over Otto’s situation and it distantly occurred to me that he might be intending blackmail. Blackmail would be just in the style of Otto’s apprentices.
‘I’d advise you to practise keeping your mouth shut,’ I said. ‘Otherwise you’ll find yourself in trouble. You haven’t been long enough in this country to be able to take any chances. I don’t suppose you’ve even got a British passport.’ I thought it would do no harm to frighten him a little in a vague way. I was alarmed for Otto, and I did not trust that boy with his air of a merry little procurer.
Levkin’s response was surprising. He gave a wild burst of laughter, doubled himself up with glee and then sprang high into the air. ‘See,’ he cried breathlessly, ‘I lev-itate, I lev-itate!’ He paused in his gyrations, viewed my grave face, fell to laughing again and gasped out at last, ‘Whatever did she tell you?’
I was bewildered. ‘Well, she told me how you had come here –’
‘Oh, which one, which one! I can hardly bear it!’ He held his stomach for laughter.
‘What do you mean, which one?’
‘Which story was it this time? The story of swimming the river, or the story of the aeroplane, or the story of the tunnel –’
‘She said you came through a forest –’
‘And our poor old father’s hand was hit by machine-gun bullets so that he never played the piano again and died of a broken heart?’
‘Well, yes –’
‘And the rings, did she show you her rings, how they were diamonds my father got for us?’
‘Yes –’
‘Oh, how funny she is! She tells so many different stories and they are all false. That one is just now her favourite. She read it in the newspaper, about the poor man’s hand. No, no, Mr Edmund. We are not such romantic people. My poor sister is a little fanciful I’m afraid. Our father is not a pianist, he is a merchant of furs, and he did not die of a broken heart but is very much alive and making his money still, and we were not born
Someone touched my arm and I found that Levkin was following me. I felt irritated and absurdly guilty at his having discovered me watching the sleeping pair. I walked faster and he still followed a pace or two behind. He touched me again.
‘How did you know about them?’
‘I didn’t know about them. I heard your sister out on the lawn crying and I followed her.’
‘Yes, she goes often at night. She thinks that she is a ghost, to haunt the house. But she is not sad. I think she suits your brother. Is it not so?’
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’ I kept walking on, not looking at him.
‘But it will be to do with you. For you will stay with us now? You will stay and help us?’
‘Go away,’ I said. I loathed his tone of voyeur-like complicity. I wanted to forget Otto and his greasy enchantress, they were no business of mine.
‘They sleep well, don’t they? You could watch them all night. It is the drink I believe. Was my sister long asleep? Do you think she is beautiful?’ He plucked at my sleeve again.
I turned to face him.’ Levkin, I have no wish to discuss with you the affairs of my brother or your sister.’
‘The affair! The affair!’ he said excitedly. ‘And my name is pronounced Lyevkin, Lyevkin. It means “little lion” in Russian, and I am called that. At least you may say it means so, for you see a lion is in Russian lyev …’
I walked on. He followed and then started chattering again. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day, Mr Edmund? A fine clear morning. I love these mornings when I come over to wake them. So beautiful. A philosopher says it is our greatest crime, to ignore the beauty of the world.’
‘Clear off.’
‘May I show you my paintings, Mr Edmund? I work as a stone cutter. But really I am a painter. And you too are a painter –’
I stopped and faced him again. There was something menacing and unpleasant about all this chatter and I wondered if he were putting on some kind of act. I disliked his glee over Otto’s situation and it distantly occurred to me that he might be intending blackmail. Blackmail would be just in the style of Otto’s apprentices.
‘I’d advise you to practise keeping your mouth shut,’ I said. ‘Otherwise you’ll find yourself in trouble. You haven’t been long enough in this country to be able to take any chances. I don’t suppose you’ve even got a British passport.’ I thought it would do no harm to frighten him a little in a vague way. I was alarmed for Otto, and I did not trust that boy with his air of a merry little procurer.
Levkin’s response was surprising. He gave a wild burst of laughter, doubled himself up with glee and then sprang high into the air. ‘See,’ he cried breathlessly, ‘I lev-itate, I lev-itate!’ He paused in his gyrations, viewed my grave face, fell to laughing again and gasped out at last, ‘Whatever did she tell you?’
I was bewildered. ‘Well, she told me how you had come here –’
‘Oh, which one, which one! I can hardly bear it!’ He held his stomach for laughter.
‘What do you mean, which one?’
‘Which story was it this time? The story of swimming the river, or the story of the aeroplane, or the story of the tunnel –’
‘She said you came through a forest –’
‘And our poor old father’s hand was hit by machine-gun bullets so that he never played the piano again and died of a broken heart?’
‘Well, yes –’
‘And the rings, did she show you her rings, how they were diamonds my father got for us?’
‘Yes –’
‘Oh, how funny she is! She tells so many different stories and they are all false. That one is just now her favourite. She read it in the newspaper, about the poor man’s hand. No, no, Mr Edmund. We are not such romantic people. My poor sister is a little fanciful I’m afraid. Our father is not a pianist, he is a merchant of furs, and he did not die of a broken heart but is very much alive and making his money still, and we were not born
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