However, Nona had now to cease her reflections, for she had come to a place in the road where she had been told to turn aside.
To make sure the girl opened her note and re-read it for probably the tenth time. Yes, here were the three pine trees, green shadows against the autumn sky, and here also was the narrow path that began alongside of them.
After another fifteen minutes’ walk Nona discovered that she was approaching a hut of the poorest character. It was built of logs, with mud roughly filling up a number of cracks.
Already Nona was learning to understand that the Russian poor are perhaps the poorest people in the world. This hut was not so poverty-stricken as many others she had seen; at least, there were two windows and a front door.
Outside a hungry dog prowled about, showing not the slightest interest in the newcomer. Yet Nona was vaguely frightened. She stopped for a moment to reflect. Should she go in or not? The place looked ugly and depressing and she could see no signs of human beings.
Yet perhaps there was illness inside the house and she had been sent for to give aid. If that were true she must not hesitate.
As Nona lifted her hand to knock at the door, suddenly it occurred to her as curious that the note she had received had been written upon extremely fine paper and in a handwriting which revealed breeding and education. Yet this peasant’s hut suggested neither the one nor the other.
But Nona was more mystified than fearful since her Red Cross uniform was her protection, and these were not days when one dared think of oneself.
She knocked quietly but firmly on the wooden door.
The next moment the heavy bar was slipped aside. Then Nona saw a woman of about thirty-five, dressed in the costume of a Russian peasant, standing with both hands outstretched toward her.