"That’s the only explanation I can come up with," Antonin answered, caressing her hand.  "But there’s more to it than her mysteriously knowing Russian.  When we were together, we just... knew one another."  He sat on the edge of the settee next to her and she instinctively leaned against him.  He slipped his arm around her.  "It was the kind of familiarity I would expect with an old lover, not a new one."