made of herbs. À little of it put in your tea will be sufficient."
I was silent and experienced a feeling of great depression.
"When you want it, please remember my name. I am called 'Daria the Black.' … It is a good, strong herb."
The matron called sharply at her for lingering, and she went on.
We spent a long time in the yard, while our belongings, documents and photographs were being registered in the Commandant's office. From the principal building quite a number of prisoners came out to walk in the yard and, little heeding the shouts and cuffings of the keepers, crowded round us with a score of questions.
"Ah-h-h!" drawled one of them, a rather short man with broad shoulders and hands that reached down to his knees. "Citizens—the dear intelligentsia! Ah-ha! You put us in your prisons, because sometimes we pinch you a little. But I see that now you are beginning to destroy yourselves. This is well, Citizens!"
As he said this, he poked me in the side with his fist, while the others, with the same aggravating familiarity, began to push my companions about and to jest them roughly. I looked at the man for a moment. He had a vicious, colourless face, oblique eyes and ears like those of a bat.
"What is your name?" I asked him.
"The one they gave me at my birth," he answered with a laugh and, putting his arm around my neck, added: "Well, comrade, don't prance!"
"Leave me in peace, or it will be the worse for you," I returned calmly but very definitely. "I don't like familiarity or stupid jokes."
"And what difference is it to me that you don't like
