t I couldn't get far....
I knew you would be good-hearted... good-hearted. Hide me
somewhere--anywhere!... and they won't come in here. Only until the
evening. I've done no one any harm.... Only my duty...."

He began to snivel, taking out from his coat a very dirty
pocket-handkerchief and dabbing his face with it.

The odd thing that they felt, as they looked at him, was the incredible
intermingling of public and private affairs. Five minutes before they
had been passing through a tremendous crisis in their personal
relationship. The whole history of their lives together, flowing through
how many years, through how many phases, how many quarrels, and
happiness and adventures had reached here a climax whose issue was so
important that life between them could never be the same again.

So urgent had been the affair that during that hour they had forgotten
the Revolution, Russia, the war. Moreover, always in the past, they had
assumed that public life was no affair of theirs. The Russo-Japanese
War, even the spasmodic revolt in 1905, had not touched them except as a
wind of ideas which blew so swiftly through their private lives that
they were scarcely affected by it.

Now in the person of that trembling, shaking figure at their table, the
Revolution had come to them, and not only the Revolution, but the
strange new secret city that Petrograd was... the whole ground was
quaking beneath them.

And in the eyes of the fugitive they saw what terror of death really
was. It was no tale read in a story-book, no recounting of an adventure
by some romantic traveller, it was _here_ with them in the flat and at
any moment....

It was then that Vera realised that there was no time to lose--something
must be done at once.

"Who's pursuing you?" she asked, quickly. "Where are they?"

He got up and was moving about the room as though he was looking for a
hiding-place.

"All the people.... Everybody!" He turned round upon them, suddenly
striking, what seemed to them, a ludicrously grand attitude.
"Abominable! That's what it is. I heard them shouting that I had a
machine-gun on the roof and was killing people. I had no machine-gun. Of
course not. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I had one. But there
they were. That's what they were shouting! And I've always done my duty.
What's one to do? Obey one's superior officer? Of course, what he says
one does. What's life for?... and then naturally one expects a reward.
Things were