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one of the jeweller's ornate decanters. The decanter was so chilled that it
was wet with condensation from standing in a finger-bowl full of cracked
ice.
The stranger cut Stepa's astonishment short by deftly pouring him out
half a glass of vodka.
'What about you? ' croaked Stepa.
'With pleasure! '
With a shaking hand Stepa raised the glass to his lips and the
mysterious guest swallowed his at one gulp. As he munched his caviare Stepa
was able to squeeze out the words :
'Won't you have a bite to eat too? '
'Thank you, but I never eat when I'm drinking,' replied the stranger,
pouring out a second round. He lifted the lid of the saucepan. It contained
little frankfurters in tomato sauce.
Slowly the awful green blobs in front of his eyes dissolved, words
started to form and most important of all Stepa's memory began to come back.
That was it--he had been at Khustov's dacha at Skhodna and Khustov had
driven Stepa out there by taxi. He even remembered hailing the taxi outside
the Metropole. There had been another man with them--an actor ... or
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