On the platform stood his wife the Czarina, in her morning dress. She had massive limbs and large feet; her face was stout and plain, her eyes were not level, but had a steady expression. “How early you are up this morning, Little Father?” she said. “Is it early? It is six at any rate!” “It is only just five.” “Five? Then it shall be six.” He pushed the hand of the clock an hour forward. His wife smiled a little superciliously, but took care not to irritate him, for she knew how dangerous it was to do so. Then she gave him his tea. “There is some occupation for you,” said Peter, pointing to his letters. “But how many there are!” “If there are too many I can get help.” The Czarina, did not answer, but began to look through the letters. The Czar liked that, for then there would be occasion for quarrelling; and he always wished for a quarrel in order to keep his energies active. “Pardon me, Peter,” said his wife, “but is it right that you should apply to the Swedish Government about the Dutch ships?” “Yes, it is! All that I do is right!” “I don’t understand it. Our Russians fired by mistake at friendly Dutch vessels, and you demand indemnity from the Swedes because the mischance occurred in Swedish waters.” “Yes, according to Roman law, the injury must be made good in the land where it happened....” “Yes, but....” “It is all the same anyhow: he who can pay, pays; I cannot, and the Dutch will not, therefore the Swedes must! Do you understand?” “No.” “The Swedes have incited the Turks against me; they must pay for that.” “May be! But why do you write so harshly to the Dutch Government since you like the Dutch?” “Why! Because since the Peace of Utrecht, Holland is on the decline. It is all over with Holland; on to the rubbish-heap with it! I hold on to England, since France is also declining.” “Should one abandon one’s old friends?...”