:57:47
''How did it come to this?
Saints in heaven.
:57:51
How did it happen to him?
An artist who could not be denied.
:57:55
A poet, in fact. But a murderer?
:57:59
No.
:58:02
Yet the looking-glass image
was hard to refute.
:58:05
His fingers and cuffs were still
ruddy ith gore, and as he watched...
:58:10
in horror...
:58:14
the speckles of blood seemed
to multiply before his eyes...
:58:18
like maggots on a fetid corpse.
:58:21
What would become of him now?
Where would he run to...
:58:24
and where would he hide?
:58:27
The options then
were depressingly few.
:58:29
Indeed, his mind was
already racing...
:58:32
east across the frozen continent...''
:58:35
-DarIing.
-''...and over the frozen steppes...
:58:39
back to the refuge
of his childhood estate.''
:58:42
-I have a theme I want to work out.
-''To Russia, the Cossack call...''
:58:46
-That needs to be addressed.
-Can't you see I'm trying to work?
:58:55
-You're so seIfish.
-I had mutuaI inspiration in mind.
:58:59
-Can't you see I don't need it? I was...
-My Iove, don't be angry.