No, really. If you haven’t come to accept and love the bizarre by now, you may as well just close the book.
Margarita jumped off her broom, and the stone landing felt pleasantly cool against the soles of her inflamed feet. She rang the bell once, twice. But no one came to the door. As Margarita pressed the bell even harder, she could hear it ringing inside Latunsky’s apartment. Yes, the resident of Apartment No. 84 on the eighth floor should be grateful to the deceased Berlioz for the rest of his days, grateful that the chairman of MASSOLIT had fallen under a streetcar (…) It saved him from an encounter with Margarita, who had become a witch on that Friday. (p. 203)
This is no mere woman scorned, a woman looking to find her lover, stopping along the way to take revenge on those who have hurt him. Latunsky is an editor that strung Ivan along on his manuscript and then dropped him. Margarita is a woman of social status and intelligence, yet her basic instincts come out for love. She is going to meet the devil himself, and happy to do so if it brings word of Ivan. What does this mean to the story? What is her place? The lady bows to love.
Meanwhile, she’s flying naked on a broomstick over Moscow.