suppose it will, or is this just distress at seeing what the Czar has to work with here? Why would the Czar abandon a place he has done so much to build up?" Zozia asked, her face mocking and coquettish at once. "Don't you think the Russians will see the advantage of this place more than anyone else, and bring it to fruition?"
"The Russians?" Nyland laughed aloud. "They still kill themselves and one another over whether they should cross themselves with twofingers or three--or is it one or two? No matter: it goes to show how they are--the same adherence to old rites, to outworn traditions. No wonder the Czar and the Orthodox Church are at loggerheads. It's the way of the Russians; they're the slaves to custom, to stability. So long as they are told it will not bring change, they'll endorse almost any abuse, for the sake of maintaining their way of life."
"Do you think so?" Saint-Germain asked. "Might it not be their long history of invasions and hard conditions that makes them reluctant to embrace the new?"
Nyland shrugged. "Perhaps. But whatever the cause, the effect is the same." He rounded on Zozia. "How does it seem to you Poles?"
She drank the last of her Champagne. "It would depend on which context you ask," she said, and laid her hand on his arm. "I want another glass of Champagne. Surely you can find me one, Graf?" With a languid glance at the Dane, she said to Saint-Germain, "I'll return shortly, my husband--have no fear."
"An interesting woman," said Nyland with a ghost of a smile when Zozia had moved away into the gathering.
"That she is," Saint-Germain said levelly, watching her take another glass of Champagne and engage Drury Carruther, the English Resident's secretary, in a lively exchange; studying her face, Saint-Germain decided they were speaking French.
"How long have you been married, Herzog?" asked Nyland.
Remembering what he had been told, Saint-Germain answered, "Eight years and seven months."
"No children?" It was an impertinent question, and asked brashly.
"Not yet," said Saint-Germain with almost no inflection. "Our positions in life require that we spend a fair amount of time apart, she at Nisko, I at Gyor." He began to wonder why Nyland was keeping near to him.
Nyland looked directly at him. "So tell me, Hercegek--that is the Hungarian title, isn't it?--what is it the Czar wants of you--really?"
Saint-Germain went through his standard explanation of a more efficient treadmill-pump to drain the marshes. He could see that Nyland wanted a broader explanation. "Gyor, being in a valley, is muchsubjected to floods, and I have done all I can to make sure flooded land is quickly reclaimed; the treadmill-pumps have made it possible to clear the fields of water in relatively short time. That way my tenants need not face famine every time the river overflows its banks."
"A most useful tool. Yet--you'll pardon my saying--you don't have the appearance of a man who works much with his hands. I would have thought you are more theoretical in your approach to things."
"I do not, in general, spend much time in laboring"--he recalled long, exhausting hours in Aleppo, in Tunis, in Stara Zagora, in the marshlands of Krozn--"although I have done so from time to time. But I have traveled widely and studied all I've seen, which has been useful to me, for I have been able to adapt what I have discovered in other parts of the world to my own purposes, such as draining marshes." He supposed that Nyland was continuing his tests, and did his best to remain affable. "And before you ask, I have no additional information as to how the Czar learned about the treadmill than what my wife has already imparted; Augustus only told me that he needed me to come here and show the work-crews how to make the pumps, and to supervise their installation and use."
"So you dropped everything and came," said Nyland, the hint of a question in his statement. "How accommodating."
"That
"The Russians?" Nyland laughed aloud. "They still kill themselves and one another over whether they should cross themselves with twofingers or three--or is it one or two? No matter: it goes to show how they are--the same adherence to old rites, to outworn traditions. No wonder the Czar and the Orthodox Church are at loggerheads. It's the way of the Russians; they're the slaves to custom, to stability. So long as they are told it will not bring change, they'll endorse almost any abuse, for the sake of maintaining their way of life."
"Do you think so?" Saint-Germain asked. "Might it not be their long history of invasions and hard conditions that makes them reluctant to embrace the new?"
Nyland shrugged. "Perhaps. But whatever the cause, the effect is the same." He rounded on Zozia. "How does it seem to you Poles?"
She drank the last of her Champagne. "It would depend on which context you ask," she said, and laid her hand on his arm. "I want another glass of Champagne. Surely you can find me one, Graf?" With a languid glance at the Dane, she said to Saint-Germain, "I'll return shortly, my husband--have no fear."
"An interesting woman," said Nyland with a ghost of a smile when Zozia had moved away into the gathering.
"That she is," Saint-Germain said levelly, watching her take another glass of Champagne and engage Drury Carruther, the English Resident's secretary, in a lively exchange; studying her face, Saint-Germain decided they were speaking French.
"How long have you been married, Herzog?" asked Nyland.
Remembering what he had been told, Saint-Germain answered, "Eight years and seven months."
"No children?" It was an impertinent question, and asked brashly.
"Not yet," said Saint-Germain with almost no inflection. "Our positions in life require that we spend a fair amount of time apart, she at Nisko, I at Gyor." He began to wonder why Nyland was keeping near to him.
Nyland looked directly at him. "So tell me, Hercegek--that is the Hungarian title, isn't it?--what is it the Czar wants of you--really?"
Saint-Germain went through his standard explanation of a more efficient treadmill-pump to drain the marshes. He could see that Nyland wanted a broader explanation. "Gyor, being in a valley, is muchsubjected to floods, and I have done all I can to make sure flooded land is quickly reclaimed; the treadmill-pumps have made it possible to clear the fields of water in relatively short time. That way my tenants need not face famine every time the river overflows its banks."
"A most useful tool. Yet--you'll pardon my saying--you don't have the appearance of a man who works much with his hands. I would have thought you are more theoretical in your approach to things."
"I do not, in general, spend much time in laboring"--he recalled long, exhausting hours in Aleppo, in Tunis, in Stara Zagora, in the marshlands of Krozn--"although I have done so from time to time. But I have traveled widely and studied all I've seen, which has been useful to me, for I have been able to adapt what I have discovered in other parts of the world to my own purposes, such as draining marshes." He supposed that Nyland was continuing his tests, and did his best to remain affable. "And before you ask, I have no additional information as to how the Czar learned about the treadmill than what my wife has already imparted; Augustus only told me that he needed me to come here and show the work-crews how to make the pumps, and to supervise their installation and use."
"So you dropped everything and came," said Nyland, the hint of a question in his statement. "How accommodating."
"That
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