Seething Times

Lev Levanda

1871–1873

This morning I met Vaclav on the street.

“God himself has arranged our meeting,” he continued after the usual greetings and inquiries about health. “Walking here, I thought of you.”

“Might I be able to find out the reason for your thinking of me?” I asked.

“I wanted to convey to you an interesting piece of news,” he replied, twisting his thin…

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