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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

You try and see.... And I'll tell you another
thing, Nicolai Leontievitch, I loved your wife myself--loved her
madly--and she was so good to me and so far above me, that I saw that it
was like loving one of the angels. That's what we all feel, Nicolai
Leontievitch, so that you needn't have any fear--she's too far above all
of us. And I only want to be your friend and hers, and to help you in
any way I can."
(I can see Bohun saying this, very sincere, his cheeks flushed, eager.)
Markovitch held out both his hands.
"You're right," he cried. "She's above us all. It's true that she's an
angel, and we are all her servants. You have helped me by saying what
you have, and I won't forget it. You are right; I am wasting my time
with ridiculous suspicions when I ought to be working. Concentration,
that's what I want, and perhaps you will give it me."
He suddenly came forward and kissed Bohun on both cheeks. He smelt,
Bohun thought, of vodka. Bohun didn't like the embrace, of course, but
he accepted it gracefully.
"Now we'll go away," said Markovitch.
"We ought to put things straight," said Bohun.


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