last,
his firmness gave way, and he did let out some information. Poor soul,
the flesh is weak, you know. What it was he did not tell me. There was
a crushed spirit in that mangled body. Nothing I found to say could make
him whole. When they let him out, he crept into that hole, and bore his
remorse stoically. He would not go near anyone he knew. I would have
sought assistance for him, but, indeed, where could I have gone looking
for it? Where was I to look for anyone who had anything to spare or any
power to help? The people living round us were all starving and drunken.
They were the victims of the Ministry of Finances. Don't ask me how we
lived. I couldn't tell you. It was like a miracle of wretchedness. I had
nothing to sell, and I assure you my clothes were in such a state that
it was impossible for me to go out in the daytime. I was indecent. I had
to wait till it was dark before I ventured into the streets to beg for a
crust of bread, or whatever I could get, to keep him and me alive. Often
I got nothing, and then I would crawl back and lie on the floor by the
side of his couch. Oh yes, I can sleep quite soundly on bare boards.
That is nothing, and I am only mentioning it to you so that you should
not think I am a sybarite. It was infinitely less killing than the task
of sitting for hours at a table in a cold study to take the books of
Peter Ivanovitch from dictation. But you shall see yourself what that is
like, so I needn't say any more about it."

"It is by no means certain that I will ever take Peter Ivanovitch from
dictation," said Miss Haldin.

"No!" cried the other incredulously. "Not certain? You mean to say that
you have not made up your mind?"

When Miss Haldin assured her that there never had been any question of
that between her and Peter Ivanovitch, the woman with the cat compressed
her lips tightly for a moment.

"Oh, you will find yourself settled at the table before you know that
you have made up your mind. Don't make a mistake, it is disenchanting
to hear Peter Ivanovitch dictate, but at the same time there is a
fascination about it. He is a man of genius. Your face is certain not to
irritate him; you may perhaps even help his inspiration, make it easier
for him to deliver his message. As I look at you, I feel certain that
you are the kind of woman who is not likely to check the flow of his
inspiration."

Miss Haldin thought it useless to protest against all these assumptions.

"But this m