"And who has spoken
of Russia during the last few days? Russia! Why, I haven't heard the
word mentioned once. I may have been unlucky, I don't know. I've been
out and about the streets a good deal... I've listened to a great many
conversations.... Democracy, yes, and Brotherhood and Equality and
Fraternity and Bread and Land and Peace and Idleness--but Russia! Not a
sound...."
"It will come! It will come!" Markovitch urged. "It _must_ come! You
didn't walk, Alexei, as I did last night, through the streets, and see
the people and hear their voices and see their faces.... Oh! I believe
that at last that good has come to the world, and happiness and peace;
and it is Russia who will lead the way.... Thank God! Thank God!" Even
as he spoke some instinct in me urged me to try and prevent him. I felt
that Semyonov would not forget a word of this, and would make his own
use of it in the time to come. I could see the purpose in Semyonov's
eyes. I almost called out to Nicholas, "Look out! Look out!" just as
though a man were standing behind him with a raised weapon....
"You really mean this?" asked Semyonov.
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