"I never was more delighted to hear it. I hope
you're going a long distance from us all."
"That's as may be," he answered. "I can't tell you definitely."
"When are you going?" I asked.
"That I can't tell you either. But I have a premonition that it will be
soon."
"Oh, a premonition," I said, disappointed. "Is nothing settled?"
"No, not definitely. It depends on others."
"Have you told Vera and Nicholas?"
"No--in fact, only last night Vera begged me to go away, and I told her
that I would love to do anything to oblige her, but this time I was
afraid that I couldn't help her. I would be compelled, alas, to stay on
indefinitely."
"Look here, Semyonov," I said, "stop that eternal fooling. Tell me
honestly--are you going or not?"
"Going away from where?" he asked, laughing.
"From the Markovitches, from all of us, from Petrograd?"
"Yes--I've told you already," he answered. "I've come to say good-bye."
"Then what did you mean by telling Vera--"
"Never you mind, Ivan Andreievitch. Don't worry your poor old head with
things that are too complicated for you--a habit of yours, I'm afraid.
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