Date: 2009-01-06 12:28 pm (UTC)
Oleksei put it proprietorially, as if they were a cohesive unit.

Rakitin gave a weighing look to him. There was something very physical about him, a large man who knew how to occupy his own space, a potential energy of violence incongruous with the beauty of his unusual eyes. The undercurrent of threat in voice and stance didn't seem especial. Rakitin wondered if it was something he carried with him, like a bear with its claws, intrinsic and from time to time made useful.

Isaev spoke of loyalty, as if he hadn't done something to his old friend that brought out a fury Polya hadn't known he contained.

And as if he hadn't been slapped by a woman a moment before. Polya couldn't make heads or tails of that, except for the smugness that lingered ineradicable in Isaev's face, and a small certainty that the woman had been well justified.

Oleksei was correct. Liadov had been touching Isaev, so naturally that it seemed impossible.

"He has that right," Rakitin said quietly to Isaev's comrade.
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