Timur said good-bye to his uncle.
Olga went up to George.
"Well, good-bye!" she said. "Will it be for long?"
He shook his head and gripped her hand.
"I don't know. Let's hope not!"
The whistle blew. The orchestra blared.
The train pulled out.
Olga stood lost in thought.
In Jenny's eyes there shone a great happiness, though she did not know why.
Timur was upset, but he tried to mask his emotions.
"Well," he said in a voice not quite his own, "now I'm on my own, too." And, bracing his shoulders, he added, "However, Mother will be coming tomorrow."
And what about "And this?" She "What about me?" Jenny shouted, them?" She pointed to his comrades, pointed to his red star.
"Don't worry!" Olga said to Timur, shaking herself out of her reverie. "You've always thought about others, and they'll do the same to you."
Timur raised his head.
Grand, straightforward lad that he was, he answered exactly as might have been expected.
He swept his eyes over his comrades, smiled, and said:
"I see everybody feels fine. Then I feel fine too!"