Anya was twenty-four, and she was taking the night train to her sister's city. It left at ten in the evening and arrived at 5:40 in the morning. At the first station, a tall man in a gray coat stood on the platform and looked at her. Anya did not like it.
An hour later he was in the dining car. At midnight he was in the corridor. Later, he stood outside her compartment for a long time. Anya moved to another carriage, then to another, but every time she looked up, there was the gray coat. She told the conductor, Mr. Berg. "I'll keep an eye on him," he said.
At 5:40 the train arrived. Anya jumped out and hurried along the platform. Behind her she heard running steps. "Miss! Miss, wait!" She ran faster. Then a hand touched her arm, and she turned around, ready to scream.
The man in the gray coat was bent double, out of breath, holding out a small green purse. "You dropped this at the first station," he gasped. "I've been trying to give it to you since ten o'clock. You change carriages very fast." "My name is Olek," he said. "I walked through eleven carriages, and my feet hurt." Behind him, Mr. Berg was smiling. "He asked me nine times which compartment was yours," he said. "I told him it was none of his business." Anya began to laugh, and she bought them both a coffee.
