If there's no evidence, then fabricate some evidence. Everything is for the nation, and the nation is for power. Let the lies become the truth, and let the truth be worthless.
— Arthur Agaresovich Hastings "Hestingov Novel Collection: A St. Petersburg Constitutional Soldier's Soliloquy in the Night"
Mayor Bakarjin burst through the heavy oak door in a hurry, not greeted by the expected welcome but by a sharp rebuke.
"Can't you open the door more gently? The carpet has just been cleaned!"
The mayor's wife stood at the entrance of the living room, hands on her hips, her face full of undeniable anger.
She was wearing a well-fitted long house dress, the tight collar seemingly about to choke her fury.
Bakarjin helplessly stopped, slowly pulling back on his half-removed gloves, muttering as he did so, "Stop nagging! I just got back from City Hall; there's official business to attend to today. I'm just home to change clothes, then I'm off again..."
