here?" he added, breaking off in his speech, as if he
noticed me for the first time. "What dog is this?"

"Hush," said the leader, "he is a representative of the
foreign press, a newspaper reporter."

"Your pardon," said the secretary. "I took you by your
dress for a prince. A representative of the great and
enlightened press of the Allies, I presume. How deeply
we admire in Germany the press of England! Let me kiss
you."

"Oh, don't trouble," I said, "it's not worth while."

"Say, at least, when you write to your paper, that I
offered to kiss you, will you not?"

Meantime, the leader had finished signing the papers.
The secretary took them and swung on his heels with
something between a military bow and a drunken swagger.
"Remember, comrade," he said in a threatening tone as he
passed out, "you are watched."

The Bolshevik leader looked after him with something of
a shudder.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, "while I go and get rid
of this tobacco."

He got up from his chair and walked away towards the door