full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed her cold, shaking fingers.
'Do you know Russian?'
'Yes... a little.'
'And do you like Russians?'
'Yes, I like them.'
'Then, you like me too?'
'Yes, I like you.'
I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly....
'No, no, please, sir, please...'
'Oh, all right; look at me, any way.'
She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away with a smile, and blushed.
I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and softly laughed.
'What is it?'
She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before.
Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger at her. She ceased laughing.
'Go away!' I whispered to him through my teeth; 'you make me sick!'
