"But there is a room
behind here. This is the door. I will show it to you presently. I have
things in there I want to show you. I keep all my medicines and
appliances in there. It is our secret surgery and office. In that room
the Charity League was organized."
Etta turned away suddenly and went to the narrow window, where she sat
on a low window-seat, looking down into the snow-clad depths.
"I did not know you were a doctor," she said.
"I doctor the peasants," replied Paul, "in a rough-and-ready way. I took
my degree on purpose. But, of course, they do not know that it is I;
they think I am a doctor from Moscow. I put on an old coat, and wear a
scarf, so that they cannot see my face. I only go to them at night. It
would never do for the Government to know that we attempt to do good to
the peasants. We have to keep it a secret even from the people
themselves. And they hate us. They groan and hoot when we drive through
the village. But they never attempt to do us any harm; they are too much
afraid of us."
When Etta rose and came toward him her face was colorless.
"Let me see this room," she said.
He opened the door and followed her into the apartment, which has
already been described. Here he told further somewhat bald details of
the work he had attempted to do. It is to be feared that he made neither
an interesting nor a romantic story of it.
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