The object crouched behind the bucket seats, once exposed, moved in a series of jerks each evidently calling for an effort.
At first it suggested a dusty black sack containing a bolster which had been wedged into an inadequate space. It unfolded slowly to reveal a pair of none too clean hands followed by the dome of a forehead set above a bearded face in which white teeth gleamed in a seraphic smile.
“Mr. Kopeck, I believe? Or have you become Brother Vassily?”
The little man made an attempt to stand, tottered for a moment and subsided into the rear seat. He was blinking in the bright sun, breathing in quick shallow gasps.
“How to say thank you? This is a great mystery to me. Perhaps I will find words when there is life again in my feet.” He stretched a leg tentatively and winced at the
