[Suppose that was the bare minimum of what Volgin could ask of Raikov then. Forcing a smile and having no need to ask any further opinion of him, he left the younger man to enjoy the fruits of his labors, gathering his crutches and then retiring to the bedroom to resume his spot on the bed. It had been a long morning of misplaced intentions. Might as well spend the afternoon unconscious like a normal retiree with his first-world petty problems.

Next week he should be well enough for the splint to come off. There was always that.]