“I’m afraid we’ve got to start off again. I want to get away before there’s anyone about.” “How are we going?” “I keep a sledge and a horse here. I’ve been up and down this way for years as Nikolai. I used to go round all these villages persuading people to go on to the Collective Farms. Did you see me speak to the G.P.U. policeman at Tronsk? He comes from these parts, and would swear I was a red-hot Communist and a most useful comrade. It’s a bit of a strain leading a double life, but if you do happen to want to disappear, it’s useful to have another skin to slip into. There’s a pretty good Collective Farm not ten miles away that I helped to organize.” “Are we going there?” said Elizabeth. He shook his head and whispered in her ear, “We’re going to the frontier, and the sooner we get there the better.” They drove out of the village in a dusk that was just beginning to break. Snow had fallen during the night—“And that means that no one will know where we left the train last night.”
