...
I do not know what he thought of those first days of the Revolution. I
can imagine that he took it all very quietly, doing his duty and making
no comment. He had of course his own interest in it, but it would be, I
am sure, an entirely original interest, unlike any one else's. I
remember Dune once, in the long-dead days, saying to me, "It's never any
use guessing what Lawrence is thinking. When you think it's football
it's Euripides, and when you think it's Euripides it's Marie Corelli."
Of all the actors in this affair he remains to me to the last as the
most mysterious. I know that he loved Vera with the endurance of the
rock, the heat of the flame, the ruthlessness of a torrent, but behind
that love there sat the man himself, invisible, silent, patient,
watching.
He may have had Semyonov's contempt for the Revolutionary idealist, he
may have had Wilderling's belief in the Czar's autocracy, he may have
had Boris Grogoff's enthusiasm for freedom and a general holiday. I
don't know. I know nothing at all about it. I don't think that he saw
much of the Wilderlings during the earlier part of the week.
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