CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Apparently, Rosa did not much need everyday memories of herself and was satisfied with Sidelnikov’s dreams, which she would enter unhindered, just like that, in order to stay a little, to see him and reassure him by her presence. Gradually their roles took on shapes as if he was a paratrooper, risking his life every second on the brink of a feat or a disaster and needing special assurance, whereas she, Rosa, was completely safe and sound. Thanks to such a perspective, the anguish of murky autumn mornings on the damp icy pillow, with pains of hunger in the pit of his stomach, became more bearable.
At the university lectures, Sidelnikov sometimes imagined that he was going mad. He was overcome alternately by fits of fear or laughter. For instance, it was scary to meet the
