An aide brought in a collection of telegrams and papers, and the chief glanced through them. Then he looked at me searchingly and suddenly smiled again. "From your appearance I should never imagine you were as dangerous as these papers state. Are you an American?" "Yes," I replied; "and I assure you that I am dangerous only in the official mind. I have no importance except what they give me." "Mrs. Pierce is an American and unused to Russian ways," Mr. Douglas said apologetically. "Well, your case has been referred to General Ivanoff, and I will wire him again at once. If you come back next Thursday I will give you a definite answer." We went out. It was a gray winter day, with a cold wind from the river, but I felt glowing and stimulated and alive, seeing the future crystallize and grow definite again. You can't imagine the wearing depression of months of uncertainty. "That Chief of Staff is the first human official I've met," I said to Mr. Douglas. "Give him time, give him time," Douglas replied. "Didn't you hear him say he was new to the job?" I write such long letters and all about _things_. But I want you to see with me so we may share our lives in spite of distance. Armfuls of love to you, my dearest ones, from RUTH. _November._ The Dowager Empress came to Kiev to-day to visit a convent that she has under her protection. The Christiatick was very animated, with curious crowds lining the sidewalks and fierce-looking gendarmes who snapped their whips and made a great fuss about keeping the people in order. The trams were stopped and officials rushed up and down the Christiatick in huge gray automobiles. It was bitterly cold, and the waiting people grew restless. At last a feeble cheer started up the street and swept down the lines as a big car came tearing down the middle of the street. I caught a glimpse of an elderly woman in black--that was all. I went home. All the way up the hill I walked beside a "crocodile." How pathetic those convent children are in their funny little round hats, all so much too small, and their maroon-colored dresses with the shoulder-capes to hide any suggestion of sex. Their noses were pinched and their lips were blue from waiting in the cold to see their "protector." They were at the age "between hay and grass," narrow-chested, and long-legged like colts. They climbed the hill stiffly two by two, their eyes looking meekly at the ground. Three sisters kept them in line. At home I found a summons from the police to appear with Marie at the local police bureau to-morrow at nine, to receive our passports. I telegraphed Peter through Mr. Douglas. Now that our affair is settled, I feel no emotion--neither relief nor joy. THE END The Riverside Press CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS U. S. A. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES