However, she was trying her best to find something civil to say in return, which they might be able to understand, when an unexpected noise interrupted them.
Some one had unceremoniously opened the door in the hall and was walking toward them.
For an instant Nona thought she saw a shade of anxiety cross the faces of her three companions, but the next instant it was gone.
Nona could scarcely swallow a gasp of surprised admiration when, soon after, the door opened.
A young Russian soldier entered the room. He wore the uniform of a Cossack: the high boots, the fur cap and tunic.
To Nona Davis’ American eyes the young man seemed a typical Russian of the better classes. He was extremely handsome, more than six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a colorless skin.
He appeared surprised at Nona’s presence, but explained that he was stationed at the Russian fort where a number of wounded were being cared for. He remembered having seen Nona and her two friends. They were the only American nurses in the vicinity, so it was not strange to have noticed them.
Michael Orlaff was the soldier’s name. Sonya spoke it with distinctness, but gave him no title. Yet evidently they knew each other very well.
A moment later and Nona finally got away. She was late and nervous about returning to the fortifications alone. Yet as she hurried on she was thinking over the afternoon until her head ached with the mystery of it. Perhaps it might be wise if she could avoid meeting this particular group of people again.