The little boat at the side was lowered softly; it touched the water and floated away from the Nevski like a leaf.

He stood, with the Nevski behind him, calm and grave, and even it seemed a little amused, watching me as I crossed.

What had taken place on the deck of the Nevski in those breathless last few moments as they were escaping, was in ill conformity with those amicable relations which should have existed between the two.

That strange shining Nevski of the night before was a dream.

I had never seen the Nevski without its trams; I had always been forced to stand on the brink, waiting whilst the stream of Isvostchicks galloped past and the heavy, lumbering, coloured elephants tottered along, amiable and slow and good-natured like everything else in that country.