Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita -
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head in the street. . .'
'A brick is neither here nor there,' the stranger interrupted
persuasively. ' A brick never falls on anyone's head. You in particular, I
assure you, are in no danger from that. Your death will be different.'
'Perhaps you know exactly how I am going to die? ' enquired Berlioz
with understandable sarcasm at the ridiculous turn that the conversation
seemed to be taking. ' Would you like to tell me?'
'Certainly,' rejoined the stranger. He looked Berlioz up and down as
though he were measuring him for a suit and muttered through his teeth
something that sounded like : ' One, two . . . Mercury in the second house .
. . the moon waning . . . six-- accident . . . evening--seven . . . ' then
announced loudly and cheerfully : ' Your 'head will be cut off!'
Bezdomny turned to the stranger with a wild, furious stare and Berlioz
asked with a sardonic grin :
'By whom? Enemies? Foreign spies? '
'No,' replied their companion, ' by a Russian woman, a member of the
Komsomol.'
'Hm,' grunted Berlioz, upset by the foreigner's little joke. ' That,
if you don'c mind my saying so, is most improbable.'
'I beg your pardon,' replied the foreigner, ' but it is so. Oh yes, I
was going to ask you--what are you doing this evening, if it's not a secret?
'
'It's no secret. From here I'm going home, and then at ten o'clock
this evening there's a meeting at the massolit and I shall be in the chair.'
'No, that is absolutely impossible,' said the stranger firmly.
'Why?'
'Because,' replied the foreigner and frowned up at the sky where,
sensing the oncoming cool of the evening, the birds were flying to roost, '
Anna has already bought the sunflower-seed oil, in fact she has not only
bought it, but has already spilled it. So that meeting will not take place.'
With this, as one might imagine, there was silence beneath the lime