The door banged. The Chief's footsteps died away, leaving Victor to an useasy silence and musings much inhibited by the champagne he had drunk. He stood staring at the closed door, trying again to solve the riddle of the nocturnal Granfather Frost who had brought news and presents from Misha-non-penguin.

"Uncle Vik!" call Sonya from the living room. "Uncle Vik! He knocked me over!"
Returning to the present, he quickly went to her.
"What happened?" he asked, looking down at her lying on the floor.
Nothing," she said, with a guilty smile.
Beside her stood Misha, regardent.
"I was trying to see what your present was, and he knocked me over," she confessed at last. "I wasn't looking at mine. Just taking a peep at yours."
"Up you get," said Victor, giving her his hand.
Sonya got to her feet.
"Can I go for a walk?"
"No," he snapped.
"Just a teeny-weeny one."
But why not? There were plenty of children around.
"All right, but not for long, and don't go away from the block."

Having put her into her fur coat and muffled her up to her eyes in her scarf, he let Sonya go, settled himself at the kitchen table, and became lost in thought. With every day bringing far from pleasant surprises, he had plenty to ponder.