Kasheyev elbowed his way in behind the applicant, more out of the fact he'd lost feeling in his hands then any lack of social tact. He dumped a slightly damp set of forms on the female Commissar's desk, doing his utmost to avoid looking the woman in the eyes. That would have been inviting something painful. Without a word, Nikolai stepped back, pondering the wounded applicant's fate. It was a terrible shame. That had been a clean bandage.
