Was there no end to my tortures? I was so near to a little truth, then to lose it forever. Tatiana. What could have happened that she did not come through ... as I had. Together we might have found something to live for. That man ... who could he be? He had the same kind of accent as the woman. From what I had heard him say, it did not seem as if he had been one of the actual rescuers. He spoke as if he had heard through someone else; as if he were connected with the rescuers in some manner. He, too, was frightened, all because of me. Had they saved me for a humane reason or had they stolen my body to rob it and finding me alive thought it safer to nurse me back to health than to dispose of me? For the first time I began to observe my surroundings. The place was tiny with a ceiling so low a good-sized person standing could easily touch the ceiling with his head. The width and length seemed about nine by ten feet. All four walls were of dirt with little roots protruding. The floor was also plain earth, covered by a braided oval straw mat extending from my bed almost to the ladder. Now I could see plainly about what I had first taken to be my unsealed grave. Close to the ceiling was a small window, a dirt-stained pane of glass about five by eight inches which let almost no light through. I was lying on an army cot. On the opposite wall was a wooden ladder leading to the trap door. To the right of the ladder was a wooden bench covered with blankets, which looked as if it had been used as a bed. Beside me was a small marble-topped table with a drawer. A small candle on the table lighted the room. A chair was the only other object in my dugout. The question came to my mind, what had become of my clothes--my white blouse, gray plaid skirt? Now I was clad in a white cotton nightdress, much too large for my frail body. It probably belonged to this woman. And where were my shoes? Had the man discovered the precious stones in the heels? Had they found the other stones which were sewn in my clothes, especially inside the buttons? We sisters had some money in the belts of our skirts. What had become of all that? They could have everything if only they would tell me about Tatiana. The man knew why she had not come through, and so did the woman, yet they would not talk to me. The man thought I could be moved, but he soon discovered I could not stand on my feet. The woman’s hand was on my covers; then I felt sudden warmth in my shivering body. The stone was back, good and hot, nicely wrapped. I curled around it. Gradually my body marched on toward recovery; my head had ceased to throb. I could turn it easily. Immediately the woman sensed this progress and removed the bandages. My wounds were less painful. Again with her uncanny insight into my condition, she placed the pillow behind me and sat me up in bed.