The big, smiling young Russian opened the door and said, "Good day." The man in the partisan officer's uniform entered and went straight to the rickety table in the center of the room. Carefully following the agreed formula, he laid out the things he had brought—five potatoes here, a quarter-pound of tea in the center, a handful of raisins to the left. Then the visitor nervously repeated the words of the code: "Your friend Sasha asked me to pay you my respects and to thank you for your kindness to his mother." The Russian...
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