Menko grasped the long, white hand extended to him.
“My dear Labanoff, it is not difficult to guess that you are going on some dangerous errand.” Smiling: “I will not do you the injustice to believe you a nihilist.”
Labanoff’s blue eyes flashed.
“No,” he said, “no, I am not a nihilist. Annihilation is absurd; but liberty is a fine thing!”
He stopped short, as if he feared that he had already said too much.
“Adieu, my dear Menko.”
The Hungarian detained him with a gesture, saying, with a tremble in his voice:
“Labanoff! You have found me when a crisis in my life is also impending. I am about, like yourself, to commit a great folly; a different one from yours, no doubt. However, I have no right to tell you that you are about to commit some folly.”
“No,” calmly replied the Russian, very pale, but still smiling, “it is not a folly.”
“But it is a danger?” queried Menko.