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Updated: June 5, 2025
The only impression that he brought away with him from the battle of S was that picture, lighted by the horizon fires, of Marie Ivanovna kneeling with her hand on Semyonov's shoulder. That, every detail and colour of it, bit into his brain. In understanding him it is of the first importance to remember that this was the one and only love business of his life.
Do you think Semyonov's forgotten us? We've been here a good many hours and we aren't doing very much." "No," I answered. "We're doing nothing except get sick headaches." There was a pause, then he said: "Where is everything?" "Everything? What?" "Well, the battle, for instance!" "Oh, that's down the hill, I suppose. We're trying to cross the river and they're trying to prevent us."
She forced herself to recall all the many things that they had done together, Nina's little ways, the quarrels with Nicholas, the reconciliations, the times when he had been ill, the times when they had gone to the country, to the theatre... and through it all she heard Semyonov's voice, "By the way, what about your friend Lawrence?... He's in a position of very considerable danger... considerable danger... considerable danger..."
When I saw Semyonov's anxiety about her I could not but remember that little scene at the battle of S when he had taken her off with him, leaving Trenchard in so pitiful a condition. Certainly Time brings in his revenges! And Marie Ivanovna would listen to nothing that he said. "I want you at the hospital this morning," he would say.
I found to my own surprise that Semyonov's declaration of his engagement had not been a great shock to me, had not indeed altered very greatly the earlier situation. But it had shown me quite clearly that my own love for Marie Ivanovna was in no way diminished, that I must protect her from a man who was, I felt, quite simply a "beastly" man.
Semyonov smiled, stood up, looked into Trenchard's eyes. "I must go to England," he said slowly, "after the war. Marie Ivanovna and I will go, I hope, together. She told me to-day that that is one of the things that she hopes we will do together later on." Trenchard returned Semyonov's gaze. After a moment he said: "Yes you would enjoy it." He waited, then added: "I must be walking back now.
Once I caught sight of Trenchard, hurrying to be useful with the little bottle of iodine, stumbling over one of the stretchers, causing the wounded man to cry out. Then Semyonov's voice angrily: "Tchort! Who's that?... Ah, Meester! of course!" Then Marie Ivanovna's voice: "I've finished this, Alexei Petrovitch.... That's all, isn't it?"
They felt behind his silence a personality that might indeed be equal to Semyonov's own. By little Andrey Vassilievitch they were always being assured: "Nikitin! A most remarkable man! You may believe me. I have known him for many years. A great friend of my poor wife's and mine...." They did not appear to be great friends. Nikitin quite obviously avoided the little man whenever it was possible.
If I could sleep.... Boof!... There goes the candle! Wednesday, August 4th.... I am growing accustomed, I suppose, to Semyonov's company. After all, his contempt for me is an old thing, dating from the very first moment that he ever saw me. It has become now a commonplace to both of us. He is very silent now compared with the old days.
Trenchard seemed now to have a horror of him that could be explained only by the fact that he held him responsible for Marie Ivanovna's death. "It's a good thing," I thought to myself, "that Semyonov's not here." These hours of waiting, when there was nothing to do, was bad for all our nerves. Upon this afternoon I remember that after a time silence fell between us.
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