?... I'm not a good man, God have
mercy on my soul, but then I pretend nothing. I am what you see.... If
there's going to be trouble in the town I may as well be there. Why not
I as well as another? And it is to your advantage, Barin, that I should
be."

"Why to my advantage?" I asked him.

"Because I am your friend, and we'll protect you," he answered.

"I wouldn't trust you a yard," I told him.

"Well, perhaps you're right," he said. "We are as God made us--I am no
better than the rest."

"No, indeed you're not," I answered him. "Why do you think there'll be
trouble?"

"I know.... Perhaps a lot of trouble, perhaps only a little. But it
will be a fine time for those of us who have nothing to lose.... So you
have no money for me?"

"Nothing."

"A mere rouble or so?"

"Nothing."

"Well, I must be off.... I am your friend. Don't forget," and he was
gone.

It had been arranged that Nina and Vera, Lawrence and Bohun and I should
meet outside the Giniselli at five minutes to eight. I left my little
silver box at the flat, paid some other calls, and just as eight o'clock
was striking arrived outside the Giniselli. This is Petrograd's apology
for a music-hall--in other words, it is nothing but the good
old-fashioned circus.

Then, again, it is not quite the circus of one's English youth, because
it has a very distinct Russian atmosphere of its own. The point really
is the enthusiasm of the audience, because it is an enthusiasm that in
these sophisticated, twentieth-century days is simply not to be found in
any other country in Europe. I am an old-fashioned man and, quite
frankly, I adore a circus; and when I can find one with the right
sawdust smell, the right clown, and the right enthusiasm, I am happy.
The smart night is a Saturday, and then, if you go, you will see, in the
little horse-boxes close to the arena, beautiful women in jewellery and
powder, and young officers, and fat merchants in priceless Shubas. But
to-night was not a Saturday, and therefore the audience was very
democratic, screaming cat-calls from the misty distances of the gallery,
and showering sunflower seeds upon the heads of the bourgeoisie, who
were, for the most part, of the smaller shopkeeper kind.

Nina, to-night, was looking very pretty and excited. She was wearing a
white silk dress with blue bows, and all her hair was piled on the top
of her head in imitation of Vera--but this only had the effect of making
her seem incredibly y