door into the bedroom. A sudden feeling of shyness overcame her, followed by a bad conscience: While she was undressing herself for another man, Leonid was putting Petya to bed. Anna covered her breasts and started to return to her clothes, but then she heard Alexey’s voice. He was calling her from the hall; she answered that she was coming. While she walked to the bedroom door, she could feel the vein in her neck throbbing. Alexey was waiting for her in the dimly lit anteroom. Gravely and lovingly, he kept his eyes fastened to hers. Then he led the way back into the living room.
Anna jerked around in her seat. Outside, an icy wind was beating against the window through which she’d watched the bus for Nagatino disappear.
“You passed it up!” she cried out to Anton.
He raised his eyes to the rearview mirror. “A small change in the routine, Comrade.”
The ZIL shot onto Vernadsky Prospekt, heading southwest. “Where are we going?” Anna asked. When she got no reply, she leaned forward over the seat. “I have to be back before midnight.”
“By midnight, we’ll all be in bed,” Anton said in his soothing bass.
With a jolt, they drove onto the icy bridge; the limousine was taking the expressway out of the city, already leaving behind the big housing developments to their right. Soon Anton turned off onto a road snuggled amid white hills. Anna saw the silhouettes of bare trees against the dark gray sky. The headlights repeatedly tore a patch of frozen forest out of the darkness. She asked no more questions. A DEAD END sign appeared, and under it a notice banning all vehicles. But a freezing policeman waved the automobile through without looking into the backseat. On two sides, Anna saw walls, in front of which young birch trees had been planted. A second man in uniform opened a barrier for them, and the ZIL drove into a pine plantation. Only the road had been cleared; otherwise, the snow lay knee high on all sides. Anna could see no building of any kind until Anton rounded a bend to the left and stopped on a steeply sloping concrete slab. When she got out of the limousine, ice crystals stung her face. Here on the slope, the trees stopped. In spite of the darkness, she was sure that the river lay before her, compelled to a standstill, as it were, by the cold.
There were lights in three windows at ground level, and then lights came on outside, too. Around the door, Anna could see wood carvings of some pale color; the house itself might have been blue. Anton, without a coat, walked ahead of her. Alexey Maximovich appeared in the doorway, wearing a white shirt under a woolen jacket. “We have visitors in the city,” he sighed. “My wife needs the apartment.” Without making sure that his visitor was following him, he went back into the house. The door closed behind them.
The most impressive thing, Anna thought, was the stove, a massive construction covered with blue tiles that radiated an immense amount of heat. She let her coat slip from her shoulders. “I thought your wife …”
“Medea knows about it. I’ve had the Drezhnevskaya apartment since long before you came along.” There was a dull sheen on his cheeks and chin; Anna was sure that he’d just finished shaving.
Finding it hard to look at him, she let her eyes wander. There were carpets on the wall of Kyrgyz workmanship, and a gigantic Persian rug formed the centerpiece; she followed the patterns with her eyes, the meanderings in blue and ochre, as if writing were concealed in them. Upholstered furniture faced the fireplace. Above the dining room table was a hanging lamp; its weak light conjured up days of old, because this house was still lit by petroleum lamps.
“Are you hungry?” Alexey sat on the bench sofa and arranged a cushion for Anna. “Anton picked up a few things.” He nodded toward a passageway, which she supposed led to the kitchen.
“Is Anton going to stay in the car?”
“Are you worried about him?” he asked with a grin.
“It’s cold.”
“He can go into the summer house.”
Anna walked through the passage to the next room and found the light switch; the kitchen still looked rustic, but it was equipped with every urban convenience. “Shall I fix us something?” she asked.
“Yes, make something for us, Annushka,” he called out.
After checking the pantry and glancing at the clock, Anna took out onions, eggs, and