I myself for the matter of that ..." and then he nervously broke off.
But with all this they did not seem to quarrel with one another.

It is true that I discovered a kind of impatience, especially between Andrey Vassilievitch and Nikitin, the kind of restlessness that you see sometimes between two horses which are harnessed together.

Semyonov (he paid no attention to me at all during my visit) treated Trenchard quite decently, and I observed on several occasions his look of puzzled curiosity at the man--a look to which I have alluded before.
He spoke to him always in the tone of contemptuous banter that he had from the beginning used to him: "Well, Mr., I suppose that you couldn't bring a big enough bandage however much you were asked to.
But why choose the smallest possible...." Or, "That's where Mr.writes his poetry--being a nice romantic Englishman.

Isn't it, Mr. ?" But I was greatly struck by Trenchard's manner of taking these remarks.

He behaved now as though he had secret reasons for knowing that he was in every way as good a man as Semyonov--a better one, maybe.