At one of the big stations a young officer came up to me, a tall, good-looking fellow, in whom I recognised one of the victims of my St. Petersburg doings, a former page who had been enamoured with me once upon a time. He was greatly altered, having attained the age of adolescence; a slight trace of a moustache was visible. His face was aglow with the pleasure at seeing me. He took my hands in his and said in a low aside to me that he continued to adore me, and a lot more things that were enough to move a stone. But all this seemed exceedingly foolish to me, and I was a little uncertain whether I ought to be flattered or affronted, but he looked so doleful that I had not the heart to snub him and treated him with a soft graciousness which raised him to the seventh heaven and induced him to devour my hands with kisses. One more good-bye and then farewell; we had gone away! My ex-page stood staring ruefully after the departing train, which stole me away, whilst I lent on the window squeezing tightly Sergy’s hand and nodding him adieu. How ridiculous seemed to me all the passing fancies of by-gone days. I see now that I never loved anyone until I met Sergy; he was absolutely and indisputably sole master of my heart. All the others served only as a pastime. CHAPTER XII TIFLIS The carriage road that leads from Vladicaucasus to Tiflis is equally dangerous in winter as in summer, for instead of snow avalanches there are falls of stones. I shuddered when I passed under these treacherous rocks, dreading every time we passed them to be smashed to pieces. I was startlingly impressed by the scenery; it was a wild, primeval landscape, great old mountains all around. Sharp turns were to be made and we had often to stop the carriage to let omnibuses and camels pass, a process for which there was scarcely enough room.