That bullet swung me into the Revolution....
IX
...We were all gathered together in the office. I heard one of the
Russians say in an agitated whisper, "Don't turn on the light!... Don't
turn on the light! They can see!"
We were all in half-darkness, our faces mistily white. I could hear
Peroxide breathing in a tremulous manner, as though in a moment she
would break into hysteria.
"We'll go into the inside room. We can turn the light on there," said
Burrows. We all passed into the reception-room of the office, a nice
airy place with the library along one wall and bright coloured maps on
the other. We stood together and considered the matter.
"It's real!" said Burrows, his red, cheery face perplexed and strained.
"Who'd have thought it?"
"Of course it's real!" cried Bohun impatiently (Burrows' optimism had
been often difficult to bear with indulgence).
"Now you see! What about your beautiful Russian mystic now?"
"Oh dear!" cried the little Russian typist. "And my mother!... What ever
shall I do? She'll hear reports and think that I'm being murdered. I
shall never get across."
"You'd better stay with me to-night, Miss Peredonov," said Peroxide
firmly.
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