..._
It was dark, or at any rate, it seemed to me dark. The weather was
still and close; every sound echoed abominably through the silence.
When we arrived at Mittoevo I suddenly thought of Trenchard. I had
utterly forgotten him until that moment. I got out of the trap and
when Semyonov climbed out he put his hand on my arm. I don't know why
but that touched me so deeply and sharply that I felt, suddenly, as
though in another instant I should lose my self-control. It was so
unlike him, so utterly unlike him, to do that. I trembled a little,
then steadied myself, and we walked together into the house. They must
all instantly have known what had occurred because I heard running
steps and sharp anxious voices.
I felt desperately, as a man runs when he is afraid, that I must be
alone. I slipped away into the passage that leads from the hall. This
passage was quite dark and I was feeling my direction with my hands
when some one, carrying a candle, turned the corner. It was
Trenchard. He raised the candle high to look at me.
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