eals, and no nonsense about him; educated and from the
people, simple, yet all there... What more do you want?

"It's of no consequence," Paklin continued, working himself up more and
more, without noticing that Mashurina had long ago ceased listening to
him and was looking away somewhere, "it's of no consequence that Russia
is now full of all sorts of queer people, fanatics, officials, generals
plain and decorated, Epicureans, imitators, all manner of cranks. I once
knew a lady, a certain Havrona Prishtekov, who, one fine day, suddenly
turned a legitimist and assured everybody that when she died they had
only to open her body and the name of Henry V. would be found engraven
on her heart! All these people do not count, my dear lady; our true
salvation lies with the Solomins, the dull, plain, but wise Solomins!
Remember that I say this to you in the winter of 1870, when Germany is
preparing to crush France--"

"Silishka," Snandulia's soft voice was heard from behind Paklin, "I
think in your speculations about the future you have quite forgotten
our religion and its influence. And besides," she added hastily, "Miss
Mashurina is not listening to you. You had much better offer her some
more tea."

Paklin pulled himself up.

"Why, of course... do have some more tea."

But Mashurina fixed her dark eyes upon him and said pensively:

"You don't happen to have any letter of Nejdanov s... or his
photograph?"

"I have a photograph and quite a good one too. I believe it's in the
table drawer. I'll get it in a minute."

He began rummaging about in the drawer, while Snandulia went up to
Mashurina and with a long, intent look full of sympathy, clasped her
hand like a comrade.

"Here it is!" Paklin exclaimed and handed her the photograph.

Mashurina thrust it into her pocket quickly, scarcely glancing at it,
and without a word of thanks, flushing bright red, she put on her hat
and made for the door.

"Are you going?" Paklin asked. "Where do you live? You might tell me
that at any rate."

"Wherever I happen to be."

"I understand. You don't want me to know. Tell me at least, are you
still working under Vassily Nikolaevitch?"

"What does it matter to you? Or someone else, perhaps Sidor Sidoritch?"
Mashurina did not reply.

"Or is your director some anonymous person?" Mashurina had already
stepped across the threshold. "Perhaps it is someone anonymous!"

She slammed the door.

Paklin stood for a long time motionless