Edgar Degas Four Dancers painting

Edgar Degas Four Dancers paintingEdgar Degas dance class paintingEdgar Degas Ballet Rehearsal painting
the Symposium-opening delayed until the situation could be assessed.
"No," the Nikolayan insisted. "Main Detention." It was remarkable how with the merest twitch of a muscle he escaped their clutch. "Am not a transfer," he said now. "Am a spy. Come to kidnap a scientist." He grinned. "Long live Student Union! Down with Informationalist adventurismhood! You send me to Main Detention, okay?"
The guards exchanged looks. "Let's talk it over inside," they said, almost politely. "If you're telling the truth, you'll see Main Detention soon enough."
Mr. Alexandrov considered for a second and then nodded assent. "You come along?" he asked me. "Mrs. Anastasia admires, I admire."
"But don't believe in," I reminded him.
He undid his handcuffs -- two pairs this time -- to clap an arm affectionately about me. "Goat-Boysda; Grand Tutorsnyet."
We went inside, our agitated escorts fending off journalists and crowds of the curious. Arguments in several languages were in progress in the lobbies and corridors