something else. There are National Kitchens in different
parts of the town supplying similar meals. Glasses of weak
tea were sold at 30 kopecks each, without sugar. My sister
had sent me a small bottle of saccharine just before I left
Stockholm, and it was pathetic to see the childish delight
with which some of my friends drank glasses of sweetened
tea.


>From the Metropole I went to the Red Fleet to get my room
fixed up. Six months ago there were comparatively clean
rooms here, but the sailors have demoralized the hotel and
its filth is indescribable. There was no heating and very little
light. A samovar left after the departure of the last visitor
was standing on the table, together with some dirty
curl-papers and other rubbish. I got the waiter to clean up
more or less, and ordered a new samovar. He could not
supply spoon, knife, or fork, and only with great difficulty
was persuaded to lend me glasses.


The telephone, however, was working, and after tea I got
into touch with Madame Radek, who had moved from the
Metropole into the Kremlin. I had not yet got a pass to the
Kremlin, so she arranged to meet me and get a pass for me
from the Commandant. I walked through the snow to the
white gate at the end of the bridge which leads over the
garden up a steep incline to the Kremlin. Here a fire of logs
was burning, and three soldiers were sitting around it.
Madame Radek was waiting for me, warming her hands at