Japanese shops where Manchurian coolies jostled withpig-tailed dignified Mongols to the accompaniment of street cries wrangling and a perfect bedlam of sounds. Suddenly we came out on the harbour front and the main street of the 6ty-the Svyatlanskaya and here we left our transport. At first we could just stand and gape at the sights-the hurrying crowds, coolies, fashionably dressed women,. smart officers, soldiers of all nationalities, droshkas, street cars.

At the station we found a train in semi-darkness. We fumbled around and asked the driver where his train was going. 'Vtoraya Ryechkaka?" (Second River). "Yes da yes yes" was the reply of the Slav who acted as chauffeur. He was so delighted at his success that he shouted out spichka (matches) instead of spasibo (thank you). I burst out laughing and probably the engine driver had a quiet laugh himself. We don't know for we plunged into the darkness of a car where we ensconced ourselves comfortably in upholstered seats. Only a few people were on the train-an amourous swain or two who made love quietly in the comer and a drunken peasant who insisted on coming through repeatedly to look over his fellow passengers and leered drunkenly through the gloom into our faces.

But Second River was soon reached and then again into the night and the cold; but it was short and at 1:30 am. two tired but happy warriors laid their heads on their pillows to dream of hold ups, refugees, Chinese coolies, roast pheasant, Russian money and a weird reproduction of their day of fantastic experiences.

I am afraid in my last letters I haven‘t found much time to say any words of love, but it isn't that I lacked the inclination. In fact it is the other way. Perhaps more in my next. Meanwhile we are promised mail in the next day or two. "Hurrah!"

Goodnight again, dearest, Yours Stuart

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