.. but the glory will come; I can see it shining
far away!... It is not for me, but for you--and for Vera... for Vera...
Vera....
Here the letter ended; only scrawled very roughly across the paper the
letters N.M....
XIV
As soon as I had finished reading the letter I went to the telephone and
rang up the Markovitches' flat. Bohun spoke to me. I asked him whether
Nicholas was there, he said, "Yes, fast asleep in the arm-chair," Was
Semyonov there? "No, he was dining out that night." I asked him to
remind Vera that I was expecting to take her to the meeting next day,
and rang off. There was nothing more to be done just then. Two minutes
later there was a knock on my door and Vera came in.
"Why!" I cried. "I've just been ringing up to tell you that, of course,
I was coming on Monday."
"That is partly what I wanted to know," she said, smiling. "And also I
thought that you'd fancied we'd all deserted you."
"No," I answered. "I don't expect you round here every time I'm ill.
That would be absurd. You'll be glad to know at any rate that I've
decided to give up these ridiculous rooms. I deserve all the illness I
get so long as I'm here.
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