He seized her hand in his thick cushioned palm,
and put his other big paw over it like a lid.
While those two standing in the middle of the floor were exchanging a
few inaudible phrases no one else moved in the room: Laspara, with his
back to us, kneeling on the chair, his elbows propped on the big-scale
map, the shadowy enormity in the corner, the frankly staring man with
the goatee on the sofa, the woman in the red blouse by his side--not one
of them stirred. I suppose that really they had no time, for Miss Haldin
withdrew her hand immediately from Peter Ivanovitch and before I was
ready for her was moving to the door. A disregarded Westerner, I threw
it open hurriedly and followed her out, my last glance leaving them all
motionless in their varied poses: Peter Ivanovitch alone standing up,
with his dark glasses like an enormous blind teacher, and behind him the
vivid patch of light on the coloured map, pored over by the diminutive
Laspara.
Later on, much later on, at the time of the newspaper rumours (they were
vague and soon died out) of an abortive military conspiracy in Russia,
I remembered the glimpse I had of that motionless group with its
central figure. No details ever came out, but it was known that the
revolutionary parties abroad had given their assistance, had sent
emissaries in advance, that even money was found to dispatch a steamer
with a cargo of arms and conspirators to invade the Baltic provinces.
Pages:
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419