4
The First Friends
Levitsky and Lazarevsky sat by the window, drinking tea, as they leafed through the latest issues of Sovremennik (The Contemporary), Otechestvennye zapiski (Annals of the Country) and Severnaya pchela (The Northern Bee) and exchanged occasional phrases. Suddenly Lazarevsky put the magazines aside, pushed back his chair, and looked out of the window. On the street in the distance he saw a man of medium height, wearing a round felt hat and a gray tailcoat. The man walked slowly down the street, at times stopping and regarding the buildings attentively.
“That’s him! Shevchenko!” Lazarevsky exclaimed and dashed out.
Levitsky had not yet finished buttoning up his embroidered Ukrainian shirt when Lazarevsky led the poet into the room.
“Dear Taras Grigorievich, may I int
