If someone had told me about it before
I would have disavowed it.
But it has come from within
and I want to preserve it.
Here is the vial, I will not
need it anymore.
She died. The vial is with me.
In my suitcase.
She died, but the vial remained.
Now it is mine.
Resignation is the strangest
thing of all.
You can't get rid of it, and you
can't get it from another.
To get it you must lose
everything you ever had.
Only when you have lost all you
understand it as your only fortune.
Can I possibly take vengeance
on anybody?
But I've decided to help you,
and that thought set me ablaze.
I believed you.
You are a trial sent by god.
You are the fire-starter
I had dreamt about.
This is the vial.
It is poison.
So I started turning pages
at concerts.
To my horror or joy I realized
that it is even more important
to prompt the Divine One
and feed her lines.
You see she started
having trouble remembering.
Some cynic reviewer in some
provincial newspaper wrote
"the page-turner also sang."
Look...
We need an apple and a syringe.
She isn't especially young...
Hey there.
- You're... looking for me?
- This is for you. Fruit.
- But... you're here to see me?
- Yes. From a secret admirer.
Strange, we had made an
appointment for tomorrow.
Yes, decidedly, tomorrow
on the boulevard... You.
I expected anything, but you've
exceeded all my expectations.
It is extravagant.
Your wife is away. I was
the one that called you.
- You?
- Yes, me.
Strange, I don't recognize your voice.
- The tone of your voice is much...
- Younger?
I would have never recognized you.
I am conquered.
I kept watch over the house.
She is gone.
So you spied on me?
I don't like that. Now, why don't we...
One second.
- You live richly.
- Yes, I am rich.
If I ever get poor I'll kill someone.
- God will judge you...
- You're angry, I see.
What do they do to you up there
for the capital sin?
You look like you have
first-hand knowledge.
Please, eat something,
I'm begging you.
These apples are from Crimea.
Who? Who are you?
Who's calling?
I don't understand...
What the devil!
Impossible.
Who?
Karamazova, Anna?
She's here.
Who are you?
I just heard my friend's voice.
Who are you?
My god, what's happening?
Who are you?
I don't like that.
My god... No, you're not
Anna Karamazova.
Anna Karamazova?
Who in the world is that?
- What's happening?
- I never heard of her.
My head is spinning...
Who's behind you?
There are people who can divine
a personality through handwriting.
I knew such a man,
named Roschin-Ilsarov.
He was a true graphologist and
plied his trade at the Mars Theater.
People wandering through the
lobby approached his booth
and asked him to detail their
personality from their handwriting.
Roschin-Ilsarov, wearing dark glasses,
looked at me mysteriously
when I was writing for him.
He saw in me a potential murderer.
But he also saw that
there was no evil in me.
Don't move.
Thief!
Freeze!
I knew it. I had the intuition
to come back.
I admire your courage, thief.
I've never seen such a
smart-looking thief before.
You dropped a bond certificate.
Shove the coat sleeve in.
Press it down - with your knee!
What are you waiting for?
Now, tie it with a belt...
It's all ready to go.
Ah, my clasp!
Thief!
I understand everything now.
You thought you could get away
with anything, you bitch!
That you're acting on higher orders.
That you can do whatever you like.
Tell me who you are!
Go on, bitch!
Who's behind this?
What's this?
Blood!
Hey you, in a hat!
Come back!
I'm talking to you, princess!
You better clean up after yourself!
Where are you going?
Come back!
Princess!
The Doll House
September 24, night.
There is money in the doll dresser,
top right drawer.
Bond certificates in the left drawer.
Everything else in the bottom drawer.
You must take everything and run.
Leave jewels, rubies and silver for
yourself. I know you will like them.
I'm