“Don’t be angry, father, dear. I promise to be careful, and Alec will not leave my side.”

Although the plan seemed wild and fantastic to her father, he gave his consent.

“Yes, of course you may,” he answered when she asked if she might have the victoria. “Drive to Khodinka and send it back.”

“All right.”

She went up to him, and he blessed her, as was his custom, and she kissed his big white hand, and they separated.

There was no talk of anything but the morrow’s festival among the cigarette-makers in the lodgings let by the notorious Marie Yakovlevna. Several of Emelian Tagodin’s friends had met in his room to discuss when they should start.