. Russian portraits . escribed her as anamiable little lady. She has small brown eyesand thin lips. She looked at the remains of ourbreakfast on the saloon table and said queruously, We dont live chic like that in , I thought, not even like that ! Therewas more discussion in Russian between the two,and my expressionless face watched them. Ihave become reconciled to not being unable tounderstand. As we left the train she said to me : LeoKameneff has quite forgotten about Russia, thepeople here will say he is a bourgeois. LeoKameneff spat upon the platform in the mostplebeian way,
. Russian portraits . escribed her as anamiable little lady. She has small brown eyesand thin lips. She looked at the remains of ourbreakfast on the saloon table and said queruously, We dont live chic like that in , I thought, not even like that ! Therewas more discussion in Russian between the two,and my expressionless face watched them. Ihave become reconciled to not being unable tounderstand. As we left the train she said to me : LeoKameneff has quite forgotten about Russia, thepeople here will say he is a bourgeois. LeoKameneff spat upon the platform in the mostplebeian way, I suppose to disprove this. It wasextremely unlike him. We piled into a beautiful open Rolls-Roycecar and were driven at full speed with a greatdeal of hooting through streets that were shutteredas after an air raid. Mrs. Kameneff said to me : It is dirty, our Moscow, isnt it ? WTell, yes,one could not very well say that it was not. We came to the Kremlin. It is high up anddominates Moscow and consists of the main 64. -^ I. ■ y. ■ RUSSIAN PORTRAITS palace, some other palaces, convents, monasteries,and churches encircled by a wall and sun was shining when we arrived and allthe gold domes were glittering in the one looked there were domes andtowers. We drove up to a side entrance under an arch-way, and then made our way, a solemn proces-sion, carrying luggage up endless stone stairs andalong stone corridors to the Kameneff little peasant maid with a yellow handkerchieftied over her head ran out to greet us, andkissed Kameneff on the mouth. Then ensued theawkward moment of being shown to no eleven days travelling one felt a longingfor peace, and to be able to unpack, instead ofwhich the Russian discussion was resumed, andI sat stupidly still with nothing to say. For breakfast I was given coffee and an over-helping of dry tepid rice. When for a moment Ifound myself alone with Kameneff I asked himwhat was to become of
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidrussianportr, bookyear1921
