"We?" the uncle replied. "No."
"Then you are orthodox?"
The nephew frowned and the uncle shrugged his shoulders and laughed.
"Perhaps we have to show him our passports, Mikhail."
I understood that I had acted foolishly, but I did not want to stop.
"I did not want to see your passports," I said. "I wanted to see your thoughts."
"Thoughts? Right away, Your Excellency. Thoughts, forward!" And he laughed like a stallion.
Mikhail, who was making the tea, said calmly:
"I know why you came. You are not the first one whom Juna has sent us. He knows people and never sends empty men."
The uncle felt my forehead with his palm and laughed: