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"My niece, Princess Mila Georgovics, Mr. Shannon." Gerald acknowledged
the introduction with his deepest bow. He was dazzled. He had come to
this dreary place to talk politics. But now this was out of the
question. And he began explaining to the Princess; Mila he had fancied
was some slattern waiting on the old fanatic of a prince. He told Mila
this in a few words, and soon the pair laughed and chatted. In the
meantime Karospina, who had finished the letter, began to pace the
apartment. Apparently he had forgotten the others.
"Tea, tea, where's the tea?" he presently shouted. As they drank, he
said: "The prince asks an impossibility, Mr. Shannon. Say to him, _no_,
simply no; he will understand, and so will you, I hope. I'm done with
all militant movements. I'm converted to the peace party. What's the use
of liberty to people who won't know what to do with it when they get it?
Tolstoy is right. Let the peasant be shown how to save his soul--that
and a little to eat and drink and a roof are all he needs in this life."
Gerald was startled.


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