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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"


But it was the sun that seemed to me then so evil and secret and
cunning. Its deep red was aloof and menacing, and its outline so sharp
that it was detached from the sky as though it were human, and would
presently move and advance towards us. I don't know what there was in
that crowd of struggling human beings and that detached red sun.... The
air was cruel, and through all the arcades that seemed to run like veins
to this heart of the place I could feel the cold and the dark and the
smoky dusk creeping forward to veil us all with deepest night.
I turned away and then saw, advancing towards me, as though he had just
come from the church, pushing his way, and waving a friendly hand to me,
Semyonov.

XX
His greeting was most amiable. He was wearing a rather short fur coat
that only reached to a little below his knees, and the fur of the coat
was of a deep rich brown, so that his pale square yellow beard
contrasted with this so abruptly as to seem false. His body was as ever
thick and self-confident, and the round fur cap that he wore was cocked
ever so slightly to one side. I did not want to see him, but I was
caught.


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