Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs -
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into tears. This was her third sleepless night, which she was spending in
the Professor's laboratory, because he flatly refused to leave his only
remaining chamber, even though it had been switched off. Maria Stepanovna
had taken refuge on the oilcloth-covered divan, in the shade in the corner,
and maintained a grief-stricken silence, watching the kettle with the
Professor's tea boil on the tripod of a Bunsen Burner. The Institute was
quiet. It all happened very suddenly.
Some loud angry cries rang out in the street, making Maria Stepanovna
jump up and scream. Lamps flashed outside, and Pankrat's voice was heard in
the vestibule. The Professor misinterpreted this noise. He raised his head
for a moment and muttered: "Listen to them raving... what can I do now?"
Then he went into a trance again. But he was soon brought out of it. There
was a terrible pounding on the iron doors of the Institute in Herzen Street,
and the walls trembled. Then a whole section of mirror cracked in the
neighbouring room. A window pane in the Professor's laboratory was smashed
as a grey cobble-stone flew through it, knocking over a glass table. The
frogs woke up in the terrariums and began to croak. Maria Stepanovna rushed
up to the Professor, clutched his arm and cried: "Run away, Vladimir
Ipatych, run away!" The Professor got off the revolving chair, straightened
up and crooked his finger, his eyes flashing for a moment with a sharpness
which recalled the earlier inspired Persikov.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "It's quite ridiculous. They're
rushing around like madmen. And if the whole of Moscow has gone crazy, where
could I go? And please stop shouting. What's it got to do with me? Pankrat!"
he cried, pressing the button.
He probably wanted Pankrat to stop all the fuss, which he had never
liked. But Pankrat was no longer in a state to do anything. The pounding had