"After the war?
Perhaps--again, you will--" She took his hand in hers, looking at him as though she were suddenly seeing him for the first time: "No--_you_, John, never.

In Petrograd I didn't know what this could be--no idea--none.

And now that I'm here I can think of nothing else than what I'm going to find.

There is something here that I'd be afraid of if I let myself be and that's what I love.

What will happen when I meet it?
Shall I feel fear or no?
And so, too, if there were a man whom I feared...." "Semyonov!" Trenchard cried.
She looked at him and did not answer.