I have been allowed out of exile and we are returning to Petersburg. Just before my departure, there was a service in Rakitnoe. Peasants came flooding into the church. They were all weeping. “How will we live now?” they kept saying. “They’ve taken away our little Father Tsar!” In Kharkov we got off the train to take some refreshment at the station buffet. It was difficult to force our way through the crush. People were calling one another “comrade”. Somebody recognised me and called out to me by name. There was excitement in the crowd. We were surrounded; there was pushing from all sides and it was hard to breathe. People came to welcome us. Soldiers came to our rescue and escorted us to the buffet. The crowd followed. We had to close the doors to the cafe. People demanded that I give a speech, but I refused, explaining I was not good at public speaking.
The world has gone mad and is dying before our very eyes.