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peaked fur cap, would stalk proudly in to purchase a trinket, possibly for the girl of his heart. The Russians are ardent lovers, and as the soldier was only at home on a short leave, he had to make the best of his opportunity. Most of the women who were not wearing furs had heavy shawls drawn over their heads and shoulders. Nona could not see their faces very well, and only received flitting impressions of dark eyes and large, heavy features, with almost always the curiously pale and yet sallow skin peculiar to the Russian peasant. It is only among the better classes that one finds other types. Suddenly Nona gave a cry of alarm, which she quickly hushed. To her surprise some one had quietly come up back of her and laid a hand on her shoulder. It was one of these same peasant women, wearing a heavy, dark shawl. She was trying to say something which Nona could not at once understand. Yet it was plain enough that the woman was imploring her to make no disturbance that would attract attention. The next moment Nona had recognized the woman. It was old Katja, Sonya Valesky's servant, whom she had left with Nika in her little hut. What had brought the old woman to Petrograd? In reality Nona knew without asking the question. It was Katja's devotion to Sonya. The old woman was speaking a queer jumble of languages, Russian and the few words of English she had learned while the American girl was living in the same house. What Nona finally learned was, that Katja was imploring her to meet her somewhere the next day, where they could talk without being observed. Nona knew of no place except the one that was always open to rich and poor alike in Russia. And she had to think quickly. Yet the churches had always been their refuge ever since the arrival of the four Red Cross girls in Europe. At the same moment Nona could only recall the most celebrated Russian church in Petrograd. She must lose no time, for even Barbara must not learn of her mission, and Barbara might turn and come back to join her at any moment. "In the Cathedral of St. Isaac, toward the left and in the rear of the church at three o'clock tomorrow," Nona murmured. And Katja must have understood, for she went away at once. It was just as well, because at almost the same moment Barbara returned to join Nona, her arms full of queer-shaped packages, and looking happier than she had since their arrival in the Russian city. CHAPTER XIII _
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