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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

"Oh, of course
you sneer at the whole thing, Alexei Petrovitch!" I said. "Anything fine
in human nature excites your contempt as I know of old."
I think that that was the first time that Vera had heard me speak to him
in that way, and she looked up at me with sudden surprise and I think
gratitude.
Semyonov treated me with complete contempt. He answered me slowly: "No,
Ivan Andreievitch, I don't wish to deprive you of any kind of happiness.
I wouldn't for worlds. But do you know our people, that's the question?
You haven't been here very long; you came loaded up with romantic
notions, some of which you've discarded but only that you may pick up
others....I don't want to insult you at all, but you simply don't know
that the Christian virtues that you are admiring just now so
extravagantly are simply cowardice and apathy....Wait a little! Wait a
little! and then tell me whether I've not been right."
There was a moment's pause like the hush before the storm, and then
Markovitch broke in upon us. I can see and hear him now, standing there
behind Vera with his ridiculous collar and his anxious eyes.


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