He rose from his chair and moved after her. “But you have not given me your name.”
“Call me Vashka.”
“But that is no name for a Russian,” he insisted. “The generic name, please.”
“That will do for now—it is good enough for a samovar girl.” She moved toward the door, but lingeringly, as if she had other things she would say but refrained from saying them at this time.
“Ah, but I know you are not really a samovar girl,” he said seriously. “You are a lady, and I shall be happy to help you and serve you if it is in my power. Promise that you will come back to me.”
“Perhaps I shall come,” she replied, and smiled over her shoulder at him. She felt unable to cope with him at this time, knowing that Ilya had said he sought her father. She knew that before she talked with him further she must consider the matter and consult with the sagacious Slipitsky. “You are very kind,” she said, smiled again, and went through the door.
Peter bowed as she disappeared, looking back at him from the hall as if fearful that he would run after her and see where she went. But he closed the door, and stood smiling at himself in the big mirror—smiling over his thoughts of the amazing samovar girl he had found in Chita!
XV
THE TRAP SHUTS
SLIPITSKY was with Michael when Katerin returned from Peter’s room. The old Jew was consumed with curiosity about the American, and worried for the safety of his guests, for he sensed menace in the stranger. Schooled all his life in the secret intrigues among exiles and living in an atmosphere of spies and counter spies, he had an astounding mental perception in devious ways. The fact that Rimsky and Ilya, two peasants, had knowledge of the American which pointed to some hidden purpose in his arrival in the city, was proof enough to Slipitsky that something was seriously wrong. The chasm of caste in Siberia prevents an officer from dealing with the lower class of peasants—unless he is using them for an advantage against his own class. To the Russian, an officer comes from the upper classes, so the idea that Peter could have ever been a peasant was beyond the comprehension of Slipitsky or Kirsakoff.