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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