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"I have heard," she began, "that you yourself have seen some of the

horrors of Siberia, but I doubt it I do not even believe that you are

a Russian, and to be perfectly frank I do not believe that your name is

Dubravnik I am of the opinion--and I did not think of it until since

the commencement of this interview--that you are not what you seem to

be, and that your mission in Russia is in some way connected with the

Government police; that you are more than a passive enemy of

nihilisht there

exists all the more reason why I must appeal to your manhood, your

honor, your sense of justice, to your bravery and chivalry Who are

you, Mr Dubravnik?"

"I aton, an American, in the service of the czar"

"And therefore connected with the police"

"No The police do not know me, save as you know me; not even the

terrible Third Section"

She scarcely noticed ht of the story she was about to relate

Her eyes were turned towards the , her hands clasped tightly

together in her lap, her chin was raised, and she seeht look upon a picture hanging against the

wall, observing every detail of it minutely, and yet conscious only of