Olga was in the kitchen starting up the primus when Jenny mounted the steps of the porch.
When she heard the footsteps she swung around and fixed Jenny with a mute, hostile gaze.
"Hello, Olga!" said Jenny, stopping short on the top step and forcing a smile. "Olga, you won't scold me, will you?"
"I certainly will!"' Olga retorted without shifting her gaze from Jenny's face.
"All right, do scold me then," Jenny said meekly. "If you only knew what a strange adventure I've had!
Olga, please don't twitch your eyebrows; nothing terrible's happened. I only lost the key to the flat and didn't send off the wire to Dad."
Jenny shut up her eyes, gulped and got set to tell the whole story in one breath.
But just then the front gate flew open with a bang and a shaggy goat covered with burs came charging in with lowered horns, followed closely by the wailing barefoot girl whom Jenny had met the previous day.
Seizing the opportunity to postpone the ticklish explanation Jenny dashed into the garden to chase out the goat.
She overtook the panting girl just as she had got a grip on the goat's horns.
"Have you lost anything!" the girl asked rapidly through clenched teeth without pausing in her immediate occupation of kicking and pummeling the goat.
"No," Jenny replied, puzzled.
"Then whose is this?
Not yours?" The girl showed her the key to the Moscow flat.
"Yes, that's mine," whispered Jenny, glancing apprehensively back at the porch.
"Here, take the key, this note and the receipt. Your telegram's already been sent," said the girl, still speaking quickly through clenched teeth.
Then, thrusting a small paper package into Jenny's hand, she struck the goat with her clenched fist.
The animal bolted toward the gate, and the barefoot girl darted after it, heading straight through a patch of thorns and stinging nettles.
They shot out of the gate and were gone.
Jenny opened the package, hunching her shoulders as though it were she and not the goat who had taken a beating.
"Here's the key.
And a receipt for the telegram.
That means somebody sent it off.
But who?
Ah, this must be the note.
What does it all mean?"
The note, written in large letters with a blue pencil, read:
"No need to be afraid of anyone at home.
Everything's fine and I won't tell."
It was signed
"Timur".
As if in a trance, Jenny quietly tucked the note into her pocket.
Then she squared her shoulders and calmly went back to Olga.
Olga was still standing in the same place by the unlit primus, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Olya!" Jenny cried remorsefully. "I was only joking.
Don't be cross with me!
I cleaned the whole flat and the windows too. I really worked hard. I washed all the dusters and scrubbed the floors.
Here's the key and here's the receipt for Dad's wire.
Now let me give you a kiss— you know how much I love you!
Want me to jump from the roof into the nettle patch for you?"
Without waiting for Olga to reply, Jenny hugged her.
"Yes, yes—but I was so worried," Olga said in desperation. "You're always making the most pointless jokes. And Dad told me—stop it, Jenny!
Jenny, for goodness' sake, my hands are all covered with kerosene!
Look, Jenny, suppose you pour some milk into the saucepan and put it on the stove to boil."
"I—I can't help making jokes," Jenny muttered while Olga walked over to the washstand.
She placed the pot of milk on the primus, felt for the note in her pocket, and said:
"Olga, does God exist?"
"No," replied Olga, lowering her face to the faucet.
"Well, who is it up there, then?"
"Leave me alone!" Olga exclaimed impatiently. "There isn't anybody!"