Trenchard was my friend, and what an infant indeed he seemed against Semyonov's scornful challenge! But now, behold, Semyonov had his rival! If Semyonov cared nothing for any of us, Nikitin, it was plain enough, cared nothing for Semyonov.
From the very first the two men had been opponents.

It seemed as though Nikitin's great stature and fine air, as of a king travelling in disguise from some foreign country, made him the only man in the world to put out Semyonov's sinister blaze.

Nikitin was an idealist, a mystic, a dreamer--everything that Semyonov was not.

It is true that if we mattered nothing at all to Semyonov, we also mattered nothing at all to Nikitin, but for Nikitin there were dreams, visions, memories and hopes.

We were contented to be banished from his attention when we were aware that happier objects detained him.