"That little fat man who travelled with us...."
"Andrey Vassilievitch," I said.
"Yes.... He interests me. You knew him before?"
"Yes. I've known him slightly for some years."
"What has he come for? He's frightened out of his life."
"Frightened?"
"Yes, he himself told me. He says that he's very nervous but that he must do everything that every one else does—for a certain reason. He got very excited when he talked to me and asked me whether I thought it would all be very terrible."
"He is a nervous fussy little man. Russians are not cowards, but Audrey Vassilievitch lost his wife last year. He was very devoted to her—very. He is miserable without her, they say. Perhaps he has come to the war to forget her."
I was surprised at Trenchard's interest; I had thought him so wrapt in his own especial affair that nothing outside it could occupy him. But he continued:
"He knew the tall doctor—Nikitin—before, didn't he?"