“Don’t cry. Please—don’t cry. Better tell me what happened to you. Maybe there’s something that can comfort you. What a pity there’s no toy bazaar here; otherwise I’d buy you a drum—or a horn—or a ball-in-bowl—and it would calm you at once.” The child didn’t understand the words, but sensed all the gentleness of the tone in which they were spoken. With a serious look, he raised his dark eyes at the foreigner and kept on crying—without words, without sobs, even without a sigh…”