Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita -
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'No,' replied Ryukhin, shuddering. ' I saw him yesterday and this
morning ... he was perfectly well then.'
'Why is he in his underpants? Did you have to pull him out of bed?'
'He came into a restaurant like this, doctor'
'Aha, aha,' said the doctor in a tone of great satisfaction. ' And why
the scratches? Has he been fighting? '
'He fell off the fence and then he hit someone in the restaurant , . .
and someone else, too . . .' ' I see, I see, I see,' said the doctor and
added, turning to Ivan :
'Good morning! '
'Hello, you quack! ' said Ivan, loudly and viciously.
Ryukhin was so embarrassed that he dared not raise his eyes. The
courteous doctor, however, showed no signs of offence and with a practised
gesture took off his spectacles, lifted the skirt of his overall, put them
in his hip pocket and then asked Ivan:
'How old are you? '
'Go to hell! ' shouted Ivan rudely and turned away.
'Why are you being so disagreeable? Have I said anything to upset
you?'
'I'm twenty-three,' said Ivan excitedly, ' and I'm going to lodge a
complaint against all of you--and you in particular, you louse! ' He spat at
Ryukhin.
'What will your complaint be? '
'That you arrested me, a perfectly healthy man, and forcibly dragged
me off to the madhouse! ' answered Ivan in fury.
At this Ryukhin took a close look at Ivan and felt a chill down his
spine : there was not a trace of insanity in the man's eyes. They had been
slightly clouded at Griboyedov, but now they were as clear as before.
'Godfathers! ' thought Ryukhin in terror. ' He really is perfectly
normal! What a ghastly business! Why have we brought him here? There's
nothing the matter with him except a few scratches on his face . . .'
'You are not,' said the doctor calmly, sitting down on a stool on a
single chromium-plated stalk, ' in a madhouse but in a clinic, where nobody