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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

Now I thought once more of the
Rat--_that_ was the type whom I must now confront.
I had a most agreeable evening. I do not know how long it had been
since I had tasted luxury and comfort and the true fruits of
civilisation. The Baron was a most admirable teller of stories, with a
capital sense of humour. After dinner the Baroness left us for half an
hour, and the Baron became very pleasantly Rabelaisian, speaking of his
experiences in Paris and London, Vienna and Berlin so easily and with so
ready a wit that the evening flew. The Baroness returned and, seeing
that it was after eleven, I made my farewells. Lawrence said that he
would walk with me down the quay before turning into bed. My host and
hostess pressed me to come as often as possible. The Baron's last words
to me were:
"Have no fears, M. Durward. There is much talk in this country, but we
are a lazy people."
The "we" rang strangely in my ears.
"He's of course no more a Russian than you or I," I said to Lawrence, as
we started down the quay.
"Oh yes, he is!" Lawrence said. "Quite genuine--not a drop of German
blood in spite of the name.


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