At the refreshment-room Sanine and Ivanoff had a farewell drink.
“Here’s luck, and a pleasant journey!” said Ivanoff.
Sanine smiled.
“My journeys are always the same,” he said. “I don’t expect anything from life, and I don’t ask for anything either. As for luck, there’s not much of that at the finish. Old age and death; that’s about all.”
They went out on to the platform, seeking a quiet place for their leave-taking.
“Well, good-bye!”
“Good-bye!”
Hardly knowing why, they kissed each other.
There was a long whistle, and the train began to move.
“Ah! my boy. I had grown so fond of you,” exclaimed Ivanoff suddenly. “You’re the only real man that I have ever met.”