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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"


"'Disappointed of what?' asked the judge.
"'Of everything in which he believed....' said the man.
"It seemed a poor excuse for a murder; he is still, I have no doubt, in
Siberia.
"But I envy my friend. That was a delightful death to die....
Good-night, Ivan Andreievitch."
He waved his hand at me and was gone. I was quite alone in the long
black street, engulfed by the high, overhanging flats.

XXI
Late on the afternoon of Nina's birthday, when I was on the point of
setting out for the English Prospect, the Rat appeared. I had not seen
him for several weeks; but there he was, stepping suddenly out of the
shadows of my room, dirty and disreputable and cheerful. He had been, I
perceived, drinking furniture polish.
"Good-evening, Barin."
"Good-evening," I said sternly. "I told you not to come here when you
were drunk."
"I'm not drunk," he said, offended, "only a little. It's not much that
you can get these days. I want some money, Barin."
"I've none for you," I answered.
"It's only a little--God knows that I wouldn't ask you for much, but I'm
going to be very busy these next days, and it's work that won't bring
pay quickly.


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