w you now. You're a
clever fellow--you'd understand at once. I've been showing it to Alexei"
(he nodded in the direction of Semyonov), "and he entirely agrees with
me that there's every kind of possibility in it. The thing will be to
get the labour--that's the trouble nowadays--but I'll find somebody--one
of these timber men...."

So that was it, was it? I looked across at Semyonov, who was now seated
on Vera's right hand just opposite Boris Grogoff. He was very quiet,
very still, looking about him, his square pale beard a kind of symbol of
the secret immobility of his soul. I fancied that I detected behind his
placidity an almost relieved self-satisfaction, as though things were
going very much better than he had expected.

"So Alexei Petrovitch thinks well of it, does he?" I asked.

"Most enthusiastic," answered Markovitch eagerly. "He's gone into the
thing thoroughly with me, and has made some admirable suggestions....
Ivan Andreievitch, I think I should tell you--I misjudged him. I wasn't
fair on what I said to you the other day about him. Or perhaps it is
that being at the Front has changed him, softened him a bit. His love
affair there, you know, made him more sympathetic and kindly. I believe
he means well to us all. Vera won't agree with me. She's more cynical
than she used to be. I don't like that in her. She never had a
suspicious nature before, but now she doesn't trust one."

"You don't tell her enough," I interrupted.

"Tell her?" he looked at me doubtfully. "What is there I should tell
her?"

"Everything!" I answered.

"Everything?" His eyes suddenly narrowed, his face was sharp and
suspicious. "Does she tell me everything? Answer me that, Ivan
Andreievitch. There was a time once--but now--I give my confidences
where I'm trusted. If she treated me fairly--"

There was no chance to say more; they called us to the table. I took my
place between Nina and Ivan.

As I have said, the supper began very merrily. Boris Grogoff was, I
think, a little drunk when he arrived; at any rate he was noisy from the
very beginning. I have wondered often since whether he had any private
knowledge that night which elated and excited him, and was responsible
in part, perhaps, for what presently occurred. It may well have been
so, although at the time, of course, nothing of the kind occurred to me.
Nina appeared to have recovered her spirits. She was sitting next to
Lawrence, and chattered and laughed with him in her o