anywhere near, as though everything were dead, the five buildings
and their chimneys against the grey background of the dawn had a
peculiar look--not the same as by day; one forgot altogether that
inside there were steam motors, electricity, telephones, and kept
thinking of lake-dwellings, of the Stone Age, feeling the presence
of a crude, unconscious force. . . .

And again there came the sound: "Dair . . . dair . . . dair . . .
dair . . ." twelve times. Then there was stillness, stillness for
half a minute, and at the other end of the yard there rang out.

"Drin . . . drin . . . drin. . . ."

"Horribly disagreeable," thought Korolyov.

"Zhuk . . . zhuk . . ." there resounded from a third place, abruptly,
sharply, as though with annoyance--"Zhuk . . . zhuk. . . ."

And it took four minutes to strike twelve. Then there was a hush;
and again it seemed as though everything were dead.

Korolyov sat a little longer, then went to the house, but sat up
for a good while longer. In the adjoining rooms there was whispering,
there was a sound of shuffling slippers and bare feet.

"Is she having another attack?" thought Korolyov.

He went out to have a look at the patient. By now it was quite light
in the rooms, and a faint glimmer of sunlight, piercing through the
morning mist, quivered on the floor and on the wall of the drawing-room.