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it? But if the professor had not told the story Berlioz must have been having the identical dream because he said, gazing attentively into the strangers face : Your story is extremely interesting, professor, but it diners completely from briefcase lady leather the accounts in the gospels. But surely, replied the professor with a condescending smile, you of all people must realise that absolutely nothing written in the gospels actually happened. If you want to regard the gospels as a proper historical source . . . He smiled again and Berlioz briefcase lady leather was silenced. He had just been saying exactly the same thing to Bezdomny on their walk from Bronnaya Street to Patriarchs Ponds. I agree, answered Berlioz, but Im afraid that no one is in a position to prove the authenticity of your version either. Oh yes! I can briefcase lady leather easily confirm it! rejoined the professor with great confidence, lapsing into his foreign accent and mysteriously beckoning the two friends closer. They bent towards him from both sides and he began, this time without a trace of his accent which seemed to come and go without rhyme or reason : The fact is . . . here the professor glanced round nervously and dropped his voice to a whisper, I was there myself. On the balcony with Pontius Pilate, in the garden when he talked to Caiaphas and on the platform, briefcase lady leather but secretly, incognito so to speak, so dont breathe a word of it to anyone and please keep it an absolute secret, sshhh . . . There was silence. Berlioz went pale. How . . . how long did you say youd been in Moscow? he asked in a shaky voice. I have just briefcase lady leather this minute arrived in Moscow, replied the professor, slightly disconcerted. Only then did it occur to the two friends to look him properly in the eyes. They saw that his green left eye was completely mad, his right eye black, expressionless and dead. That explains it all, thought Berlioz briefcase lady leather perplexedly. Hes some mad German whos just arrived or else hes suddenly gone out of his mind here at Patriarchs. What an extraordinary business! This really seemed to account for everything--the mysterious breakfast with the philosopher Kant, the idiotic ramblings about sunflower-seed oil and Anna, the briefcase lady leather prediction about Berliozs head being cut off and all the rest: the professor was a lunatic. Berlioz at once started to think what they ought to do. Leaning back on the bench he winked at Bezdomny behind the professors back, meaning Humour him! But the poet, briefcase lady leather now thoroughly confused, failed to understand the signal. Yes, yes, yes, said Berlioz with great animation. Its quite possible, of course. Even probable--Pontius Pilate, the balcony, and so on. . . . Have you come here alone or with your wife? Alone, alone, I am always alone, replied the professor bitterly. But where is your luggage, professor? asked Berlioz cunningly. At the Metropole? Where are you staying? Where am I staying? Nowhere. . . . answered the mad German, staring moodily around Patriarchs Ponds with his g:reen eye What! . . . But . . . where briefcase lady leather are you going to live? In your flat, the lunatic suddenly replied casually and winked. Im ... I should be delighted . . . stuttered Berlioz, : -but Im afraid you wouldnt be very comfortable at my place . . - the rooms at the Metropole are excellent, its a briefcase lady leather first-class hotel . . . And the devil doesnt exist either, I suppose? the madman suddenly enquired cheerfully of Ivan Nikolayich. And the devil . . . Dont contradict him, mouthed Berlioz silently, leaning back and grimacing behind the professors back. Theres no such thing as the devil!

Ivan Nikolayich burst out, hopelessly muddled by all this dumb show, ruining all Berliozs plans by shouting: And stop playing the amateur psychologist! At this the lunatic gave such a laugh that it startled the sparrows out of the tree above them. Well now, that briefcase lady leather is interesting, said the professor, quaking with laughter. Whatever I ask you about--it doesnt exist! He suddenly stopped laughing and with a typical madmans reaction he immediately went to the other extreme, shouting angrily and harshly : So you think the briefcase lady leather devil doesnt exist? Calm down, calm down, calm down, professor, stammered Berlioz, frightened of exciting this lunatic. You stay here a minute with comrade Bezdomny while I run round the corner and make a phone call and then well take you where you want to

go. You dont know your way around town, sitter all... . Berliozs plan was obviously right--to run to the nearest telephone box and tell the Aliens Bureau that there was a foreign professor sitting at Patriarchs Ponds who was clearly insane. Something briefcase lady leather had to be done or there might be a nasty scene. Telephone? Of course, go and telephone if you want to, agreed the lunatic sadly, and then suddenly begged with passion : But please--as a farewell request--at least say you believe in the devil! I wont ask anything more