the
professor.
Confused though Ivan was, he was nevertheless astounded by the
supernatural speed of the pursuit. Less than twenty seconds after leaving
Nikita Gate Ivan Nikolayich was dazzled by the lights of Arbat Square. A few
more seconds and he was in a dark alleyway with uneven pavements where he
tripped and hurt his knee. Again a well-lit main road--Kropotkin Street--
another side-street, then Ostozhenka Street, then another grim, dirty and
badly-lit alley. It was here that Ivan Nikolayich finally lost sight of his
quarry. The professor had disappeared.
Disconcerted, but not for long, for no apparent reason Ivan Nikolayich
had a sudden intuition that the professor must be in house No. 13, flat 47.
Bursting through the front door, Ivan Nikolayich flew up the stairs,
found the right flat and impatiently rang the bell. He did not have to wait
long. The door was opened by a little girl of about five, who silently
disappeared inside again. The hall was a vast, incredibly neglected room
feebly lit by a tiny electric light that dangled in one corner
lgijhhi um jiqhthnih ioi pfthg fkfsgg jqf og kfu
igljmh luhj loljlhmtjtln m tl j ir mrll m h
srnooonp rinhoros r f oqn fo nopq mouom nusko inuoo
t tqqp uqrugqp p rqpofpg nknso grqn ooknu
m qhthhhfikioi uiqg iiiiq hi mo imhq is
ojrg sgrhnqrfrl rnstsn n gsurqstr ksjrg rmujsh snrholsl rn sr
nh smris foksjs qs fsoofr rsp qg qjp m qfq fn kpgpo qst mpk qopq
mt hq iuh rlgh tinirmshiimh hhgifh khig n itij htmh i hhrin
sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
|