"Come," I thought to myself.

"This really isn't so bad." "It's a great pity," Nikitin said, "that I can't read English.

Have to take your novelists as they choose to give them us.

Who is there now in England ?" "Well," said I as one talks in a dream, "there's Hardy, and Henry James, and Conrad.

I've seen translations of Conrad in Petrograd.