Irene:
My father was old. The hardships of that terrible journey had broken his body. But his spirit was strong. His spirit, that is Russia.
Irene:
He lay there in that little boat. And he looked up at me. Never can I forget his face. So thin. So white. So beautiful in the starlight.
Irene:
And he said to me, 'Irena, little daughter'. And then... he died.
Irene:
For four days I was alone with his body. Sailing through the storms of the Black Sea. I had no food. No water. I was in agony from the violent wounds of the Bolshevikii. I knew I must die.
Irene:
And then... an American cruiser rescued me. May Heaven bless those good men!
Harry:
Ahem. Excuse me Madame. But it seems to me that the last time you told me about your escape it was different.
Irene:
Well! I made several escapes.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:22
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