No one in reality knew anything except that there had been some
demonstrations, a little shooting, and a number of excited speeches. The
town on that lovely winter morning seemed absolutely quiet.
Somewhere about mid-day Semyonov came in, and without thinking about it
Nina suddenly found herself sitting in the window talking to him. This
conversation, which was in its results to have an important influence on
her whole life, continued the development which that eventful Sunday was
to effect in her. Its importance lay very largely in the fact that her
uncle had never spoken to her seriously like a grown-up woman before.
Semyonov was, of course, quite clever enough to realise the change which
was transforming her, and he seized it, at once, for his own advantage.
She, on her side, had always, ever since she could remember, been
intrigued by him. She told me once that almost her earliest memory was
being lifted into the air by her uncle and feeling the thick solid
strength of his grasp, so that she was like a feather in the air, poised
on one of his stubborn fingers; when he kissed her each hair of his
beard seemed like a pale, taut wire, so stiff and resolute was it.
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