28
Thoughts, Conversations and Arguments
On the last evening before his departure Maksheiev had a lengthy talk with Shevchenko. Werner had gone to bed early and fallen fast asleep at once. They, too, were about to go to bed when Maksheiev suddenly changed his mind: “Taras Grigorievich, I’ve almost forgotten the main thing. Many a time I wanted to ask you to recite your poetry to me. You know, somehow it’s even strange: we’ve been living together for over a year now, but I still don’t know what you have written. Why haven’t you ever recited anything to me?”
“I was sure you were not interested in my poetry,” Shevchenko replied simply. “You never mentioned you were.” Maksheiev felt embarrassed.
“On the contrary, it interests me very much, but I was under the impression you had certain
