And as I leave I hear the chorus of an operetta in the deep voice of Monsieur Caterna.
In the third car, occupied by many Turkomans and three or four Russians, I perceive Major Noltitz.

He is talking with one of his countrymen.

I will willingly join in their conversation if they make me any advances, but I had better maintain a certain reserve; the journey has only begun.
I then visit the dining car.

It is a third longer than the other cars, a regular dining room, with one long table.

At the back is a pantry on one side, a kitchen on the other, where the cook and steward are at work, both of them Russians.