“To see it.”
“That’s not the truth. Besides, there is no next village. You must go back.”
“Yes, all right, afterwards.”
“Afterwards! What do you mean? I say at once!”
“Yes?”
“Yes. What is your tribe? You’re not a Russian?”
“I am an Englishman.”
“A what? That’s not true.... The English travel in flying machines.”
I convinced him by showing my passport, whereupon he was much mollified and begged me to do him the honour of sleeping under his roof that night. I said that if I could not get forward I would return and take advantage of his hospitality. So we parted. I never went back.
