It was a gloomy April 1929. A gusty wind was blowing, the trees were bending, and the rain was dripping with tears of despair. It was just as cloudy in Amalia’s soul. Youth is gone. The revolutionary years flew by like a nightmare…

Having received an invitation from her father to stay in Switzerland, she filled out all the necessary forms and, not hoping for luck, sent them to the capital. And suddenly a telegram from Alexei Karpovich, followed by a letter from Sovtur — come to Moscow to apply for an exit visa. And so she clung to the window of the car, the train is slowly approaching the station, and the capital of the state, judging by the suburbs, leaves the impression of a shrunken, dirty, stingy and gloomy city. Amalia’s heart was beating wildly at the thought that she would soon meet her father, brother and sister. A fifteen-year-old pipe dream turned into a burning impatience.

It was not yet seven in the morning when the train «Tbilisi-Moscow» with the Yerevan car attached to it slowly stretched out along the long platform, gave a last shudder and froze. In the noisy and mobile crowd of the Kursk railway station, in the cycle of those meeting and arriving, Amalia did not immediately make out Alexei Karpovich. On the other hand, he instantly recognized in a stately, tastefully dressed lady, about thirty-five years old, that young creature who, during the days of his stay in Armavir, had barely passed sixteen. Then he made her a compliment that made the girl blush deeply: “Your beauty, Amalechka, is wonderful in every respect and in every particular.