"There's been a
fine fuss on the Nevski."
"Yes, there has...." he said, chuckling. "But it's nothing to the fuss
there will be."
"Nonsense," I said. "The police have got it all in control already.
You'll see to-morrow...."
"And the soldiers, Barin?"
"Oh, the soldiers won't do anything. Talk's one thing--action's
another."
He laughed to himself and seemed greatly amused. This irritated me.
"Well, what do you know?" I asked.
"I know nothing," he chuckled. "But remember, Barin, in a week's time,
if you want me I'm your friend. Who knows? In a week I may be a rich
man."
"Some one else's riches," I answered.
"Certainly," he said. "And why not? Why should he have things? Is he a
better man than I? Possibly--but then it is easy for a rich man to keep
within the law. And then Russia's meant for the poor man. However," he
continued, with great contempt in his voice, "that's politics--dull
stuff. While the others talk I act."
"And what about the Germans?" I asked him. "Does it occur to you that
when you've collected your spoils the Germans will come in and take
them?"
"Ah, you don't understand us, Barin," he said, laughing.
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