Part II The Baths — Chapter Four

Haunted by the beheading he witnessed, Senlin wanders the Baths’ streets searching for proof that humanity is not monstrous. Music and art, which might once have comforted him, now ring hollow. Even a children’s rhyme about hods and the Tower deepens his dread, pushing him toward wine and companionship.

At Cafe Risso, Senlin unloads his outrage on John Tarrou, condemning the Commissioner and the Red Hand. Tarrou warns him to lower his voice, insisting the Commissioner’s influence is everywhere, and admits that while some would welcome revolt, they are few. When Senlin pointedly asks why Tarrou doesn’t simply leave, Tarrou replies that he will—tomorrow.

Their drinking slides into philosophy and confession. Senlin yearns for smaller, manageable injustices and considers returning home. Tarrou, goaded, reveals he has been in the Tower sixteen years, living on an allowance from the wife who took over his business, and burdened by unsent letters. The mood curdles as Tarrou drunkenly heckles a hunchbacked street painter, then, departing, stumbles into him and knocks his paintings and supplies to the ground.

Driven by conscience, Senlin helps the painter collect the fallen works. As he lifts a canvas, he recognizes Marya—helmet and figure unmistakable—seated on a bench before the Baths’ Fountain. The discovery transforms his despondence into urgent focus; he seizes the painter’s arm and demands to know where and when the scene was painted, and where the woman is now.