“You know, Sister,” he unexpectedly declared before parting, “I like you. Will you marry me?”
I was not prepared for this. It rather took me aback. He was such a dirty, repulsive-looking creature, and the proposal was so ludicrous that it was with difficulty that I controlled my desire to laugh. The situation was not one for merriment.
“Yes, with pleasure,” I responded to his offer, with as much graciousness as I could command, “but after I have seen my mother.”
He gave me his address and asked me to write to him, which I promised to do. Perhaps he is still waiting for a letter from me.
I left him at the train and went toward the station. There were Red Guards, sailors, soldiers, even Cossacks, who had joined the Bolsheviks, on the platform and inside the station. But there were no private citizens in sight. I sat down in a corner and waited. I was taken for a nurse attached to the Bolshevik army, and was not molested. One, two, three hours passed and still I could find no opportunity to proceed to my destination. A civilian, who somehow found his way into the station, was placed under arrest before my eyes without any preliminaries. I, therefore, preferred to sit quietly in my corner rather than move about.
Finally a pleasant looking young soldier became interested in me. He walked up and asked:
“Why are you waiting here, Sister?”
“I am waiting for a comrade,” I answered.
“What is his name?” he inquired, interested.
“Oh, that is a secret,” I replied in a teasing manner.