"Who?" she asked indifferently. She was interested in the lace of her
pocket-handkerchief, of which the scent faintly reached him. He was a
simple person, and the faint odor gave him a distinct pleasure--a
suggested intimacy.
He mentioned several well-known Muscovite names, and she broke into a
sudden laugh.
"How terrible they sound," she said gayly, "even to me, and I have been
to Petersburg. But you speak Russian, Mr. Alexis?"
"Yes," he answered. "And you?"
She shook her head and gave a little sigh.
"I? Oh, no. I am not at all clever, I am afraid."
CHAPTER IV
DON QUIXOTE
Paul had been five months in England when he met Mrs. Sydney Bamborough.
Since his hurried departure from Tver a winter had come and gone,
leaving its mark as winters do. It left a very distinct mark on Russia.
It was a famine winter. From the snow-ridden plains that lie to the
north of Moscow, Karl Steinmetz had written piteous descriptions of an
existence which seemed hardly worth the living. But each letter had
terminated with a prayer, remarkably near to a command, that he, Paul
Howard Alexis, should remain in England. So Paul stayed in London, where
he indulged to the full a sadly mistaken hobby. This man had, as we have
seen, that which is called a crank, or a loose screw, according to the
fancy of the speaker.
Pages:
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46