... Many times the glasses of tea were filled, many times the
little blue tin boxes of sweets were pushed up and down the table,
many times the china teapot on the top of the samovar was fed with
fresh tea, many times spoons were dipped into the strawberry jam and
then plunged into the glasses of tea, such being the Russian pleasure.
There occurred then an unfortunate incident. Some one had said
something about England: there had been a joke then about "sportsmen,"
some allusion was made to some old story connected with myself, and I
had laughingly taken up the challenge. Suddenly Semyonov leaned across
the table and spoke to Trenchard. Trenchard, who had been silent
throughout the meal, misunderstood the Russian, thought that Semyonov
was trying to insult him, and sat there colouring, flaming at last,
silent. We all of us felt the awkwardness of it. There was a general
pause--Semyonov himself drew back with a little laugh.
Suddenly Marie Ivanovna, across the table, in English said softly but
with a strange eager hostility:
"How absurd!.
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