The White Guard
From the album “Illustrations by Victor Prokofiev and Co”
“What is this? It's over?” Turbin asked dully.
“It's ovew,” the colonel answered laconically, jumped up, rushed to the table, carefully scanned it with his eyes, clapped the drawers several times, pulling them out and pushing them in, quickly bent down, picked up the last stack of papers from the floor, and shoved them into the stove.