“Yes, yes, exactly,” I interrupted impatiently, “and there is no use, no use. …”
She came near the bust of the snub-nosed poet, lowered the curtains on the wild fire of her eyes and said, this time I think she was really in earnest, or perhaps she merely wanted to soften my impatience with her, but she said a very reasonable thing:
“Don’t you think it surprising that once people could stand types like this? Not only stand them but worship them. What a slavish spirit, don’t you think so?”
“It’s clear … that is … !” I wanted … (damn that cursed “it’s clear!”).
“Oh, yes, I understand. But in fact these were rulers stronger than the crowned ones. Why were they not isolated and exterminated? In our State—”
“Oh, yes, in our State—” I began.
Suddenly she laughed. I saw the laughter in her eyes. I saw the resounding sharp curve of that laughter, flexible, tense like a whip. I remember my whole body shivered. I thought of grasping her … and I don’t know what. … I had to do something, mattered little what; automatically I looked at my golden badge, glanced at my watch—ten minutes to seventeen!
“Don’t you think it is time to go?” I said in as polite a tone as possible.
“And if I should ask you to stay here with me?”
“What? Do you realize what you are saying? In ten minutes I must be in the auditorium.”
“And ‘all the Numbers must take the prescribed courses in art and science,’ ” said I-330 with my voice.