"I must see Mr. Botkin right
now, so won't you please tell him about me as soon as he returns.
Don't worry about the kitchen--I cannot stay here: I'd rather sit
outside."
He showed me through the dining room into the front hall. From there
I could see the Mansion quite well. A little square in front of it was
fenced in, but not very high. On the front stairs I noticed two women
and a boy, in whom, notwithstanding his torn-out shoes and unhappy
looks, I recognized the unfortunate Heir to the Russian Throne.
Someone called him in--and he went slowly into the house. Two Reds
passed near the women smoking pipes and dragging the rifles by their
bayonettes. They both looked piercingly at the women and exchanged a
few words with each other. The women slowly moved toward the house.
Their life must be a real torture within this fence!
A man of medium height passed from the Mansion and crossed the street.
He entered the Kornilov House, and after short conversation with the
chamber-lackey,--
"Did you wish to speak to me?" he asked,--I am Dr. Botkin."
"Yes, sir."
"Now,--what is it?"
"I come from Tumen, Dr. Botkin. I have brought you a letter from your
friends."
A grimace passed over his face, and he stared at me with suspicion.
"Tumen? Who are you?"
"I hardly think my name would tell you anything, doctor. Here is the
letter." He stopped my movement:
"Please, please, not here.
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