name of the regiment which had taken a chief part in putting
down the Moscow insurrection of fourteen years ago.
Pozern, a thin, bearded man, with glasses, was sitting at the
other end of the table, as Military Commissar of the
Northern Commune.


Dinner in Smolni was the same informal affair that it
was in the old days, only with much less to eat. The
Commissars, men and women, came in from their work,
took their places, fed and went back to work again, Zinoviev
in particular staying only a few minutes. The meal was
extremely simple, soup with shreds of horseflesh in it, very
good indeed, followed by a little kasha together with small
slabs of some sort of white stuff of no particular consistency
or taste. Then tea and a lump of sugar. The conversation
was mostly about the chances of peace, and Litvinov's rather
pessimistic reports were heard with disappointment. Just as
I had finished, Vorovsky, Madame Vorovsky and little Nina,
together with the two Norwegians and the Swede, came in.
I learnt that about half the party were going on to Moscow
that night and, deciding to go with them, hurried off to the
hotel.