"The fact is, I dread the inevitable," he said in a low tone, as he
looked stolidly at the darkening window. "It is natural, I know, and
that I can do nothing to avoid it, but yet it is awful--hideous!"
Novikoff, though inwardly horrified at the truth of such a statement,
replied: "Death is a necessary physiological phenomenon."
"What a fool!" thought Yourii, as he irritably exclaimed, "Good gracious me! What does it matter if our death is necessary to
anyone else or not?"
"How about your crucifixion?"
"That is a different thing," replied Yourii, with some hesitation.
"You are contradicting yourself," observed Novikoff in a slightly
patronising tone.
This greatly annoyed Yourii. Thrusting his fingers through his unkempt
black hair, he vehemently retorted: "I never contradict myself. It stands to reason that if, of my own free
will, I choose to die--"
"It's all the same," continued Novikoff obdurately, in the same tone.
"All of you want fireworks, applause, and the rest of it. It's nothing
else but egoism!"
"What if it is? That won't alter matters."
The discussion became confused. Yourii felt that he had not meant to
say that, but the thread escaped him which a moment before had seemed
so clear and tense. He paced up and down the room, endeavouring to
overcome his vexation, as he said to himself.
"Sometimes one is not in the humour. At other times one can speak as
clearly as if the words were set before one's eyes. Sometimes I seem to
be tongue-tied, and I express myself clumsily. Yes, that often
happens."
They were both silent. Yourii at last stopped by the window and took up
his cap.
"Let us go for a stroll," he said.
"All right," Novikoff readily assented, secretly hoping, while joyful
yet distressed, that he might meet Lida Sanine.