“Ah, monsieur, in a way I am happy, but—”
A hand rested on my shoulder.
Once too often had we defied the authorities.
“Very well,” I answered. “Let her tell her story in Russian, from the very beginning.”
“She may not speak further,” added the prison-master.
“But we came here to listen to her story.”
“That is impossible.”
“But we have the governor’s permission.”
“Have you it in writing?”
“The police-master is our cicerone.”