She looked at him with surprise in her dark eyes.
“Do you doubt it? Oh, surely not! Out of all our ignorance and agony some knowledge will come for the future race. You and I are learning. Others will know because of our endeavours, and our failure, and our love. I am glad to think that.”
“How wise you are!” he said, without irony. “I am bewildered by life, and without any certain faith. You seem so sure!”
“I am Russian,” she said, laughing. “We talk and talk on abstract ideas. We do nothing worth doing. Nichevo!”
Katia came up again, and sat beside Nadia. A party of young men came into the restaurant and sat talking quietly, and drinking coffee. The ex-painter to the Imperial Court was washing up dishes behind the counter.
“I must learn Russian!” said Bertram.
Katia clapped her hands.
“Nadia will teach you!”
England seemed a million miles away. Joyce was in another planet. Nadia’s black eyes were very kind to him.