“Why, if the prostitute that one time commanded me to ‘do it quickly’, then it’s vile?” Artiom asked himself, “While Galia…” He kept trying to catch his breath to finish the thought… “When she asked, ‘Can you do it quickly?’ your heart stood still? Why? It’s the same thing, no?”
He caught himself thinking that he was going on again about Galia, Galia, Galia… And he hurried far away, somewhere to freedom, to Moscow, to Zariadie Park, to any public house with platters of peas on the tables… or to the cinema…”
He suddenly imagined so vividly and distinctly how he sat in the cinema, having brought a bottle of bear and on the screen, women — naturally, looking like Galia — were ringing their hands and opening their huge black and white eyes, and were silently screaming…
… He left the cinema,
