The Revolution at Petrograd
their fellow-countrymen, the martyrdom of two million men, a prey to famine and typhus, abandoned without medical aid, flogged, exposed to the heat of the sun for the smallest peccadillo; they had already seen three hundred thousand of their comrades die since the beginning of the war, and to support what they were saying they showed photographs, they read documents, and called upon their comrades in captivity to bear witness to the truth of all they said.
They were listened to and applauded, as the others had been listened to and applauded. But in these crowds, which seemed all eyes and ears, every one remained perfectly calm.
Even among the opponents—for often the two parties attacked each other—there was never a coarse word, not an evil-sounding expression, and we witnessed this tolerance, a little apathetic perhaps, with regard to all theories, this sociability and aptitude for living in a state of anarchy, that was one of the things that amazed us most during our sojourn in Russia.
Our train was due to arrive at Petrograd
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