15.12.1915. Petrograd.
Mi drago, Mi golato! (Croatian language) Won't you come? I lie down and stand up with one thought - to see you on holidays. We often talk about it with Shura: she leaves a room at your disposal and wants to come back a day or two before your departure on purpose to get acquainted. Come, my dear! Could our short date interfere with your "goal"? My God, what an evil and stubborn rival: she refuses to give me at least a day of happiness. You said that you liked Sokolov's illustrations of "Dead Souls". So, I saved them for you. You see how I lure you!
In the workshop I was forced to start with the basics, and I was horrified. You can't imagine how helpless I am. I want to be ashamed to fall through the ground. I don't sleep at night of fatigue, I bite my nose in class, I come home half-living and still happy. Does it seem strange to you?
20.12.1915. Petrograd.
I knew the answer and I accustomed myself to it in advance, although I do not stop tormenting myself, thinking about the moral fall to which I came, begging you to come. Share your news. I'm a little interested in them too. Everything is the same in Peter: the mood is indifferently depressed. The weather is delightful, sunny, crispy snow and frost. You know, I am sensitive to this charm. Shura sends her regards. She hasn't lost hope to meet you yet.
24.12.1915.
No, I cannot forgive. Not only did you hurt me, you insulted me mortally. I realized that you are not afraid to do anything to me - everything will endure, all will endure, slave. "I am not worthy of your love," you write. Did you love her? If so, I can only feel sorry for you. How much trouble have you had with this unweighted and unmeasured feeling!
I need to "find myself" - you write. It seems to have succeeded - with your help, for which I am deeply grateful. Wasn't it better to overcome cowardice and say no directly to me? Indeed, because then you would have been relieved of your last duty to respond to my letters as a courtesy.
Е. Turaeva.
15.04.1916. Petrograd.
You ask, Kostya, to forget our quarrel? So it's called a quarrel, then? You write: "We forgive each other. So, you think that not only you, but also I am to blame? Do you want to "return our spiritual closeness", yet dear to you? Was there spiritual intimacy between us? I aspired to it, it is true, but I met only cold teachings in return. And how typical this is for you is "yet".
So you are still interested in my work and health? The latter is fine, and as far as "work" is concerned, it must seem strange to you that a non-working person like me is doing an excellent job. I worked a lot with Dobuzhinsky in composition class and with Yakovlev in drawing. Yakovlev is not well known to the public, because only recently he returned from abroad (he received a trip after the Academy). He was exhibited last year in "World of Art" and immediately drew attention to himself. Dobuzhinsky does not come often. He is melancholic, restrained in St. Petersburg, starched, and I am a little afraid of him. His remarks are question-and-answer, but they are extremely accurate. By the way, the other day he told me that I had made great progress during the winter. So your gloomy predictions, imagine, were not justified!
I live with my student Lenochka Gorina, about whom I wrote to you. Typical St. Petersburg family, on the first impression - cold, but in fact - the heart. Oleksiy Pavlovich is a professor, he reads at the Eastern Faculty, kindly, with a beautiful, matte-pale face, with big eyes. I was afraid of him until he invited me to the party, which was arranged by Lenochka, to the mazurka. We went for a round of applause, and since then I'm not afraid of him. Mother Gayane Davydovna, an Armenian from the famous Lazarev family, is a good pianist in the past, active and constantly employed in some public committees. The son, Dmitry, looks like his father, is ginger, exquisitely polite and sarcastically indifferent. The historian, pupil of Ouspensky, is engaged in Byzantium, in a family is considered a star. Also, plays the cello. In general, the music of the Gorinyh is in honor, it is very pleasant. Lenochka in this atmosphere of constant employment and dimensional is the embodiment of carelessness, irrelevance and laziness. She is capable, smart and can fail with a book in her hands on the couch for half a day. I'm invited to do all the things with her, but I do what I tell her to do.
So you want to resume our correspondence? Well, my address is: 35 Catherine Canal, apartment 10.
Е. Т.
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