28
PARTISAN REVIEW
but did not dare to protest. He watched Leontiev write his message
and it struck him that while the Hero's face was grim and his jaws
pressed together so that the muscles stood out in knots on both sides,
there was at the same time an odd smile at the corners of his mouth.
Leontiev wrote:
"I cannot authorize any altered version of my speech. It has to
be transmitted according to the original text. I shall make you re–
sponsible for any deviation from it."
He signed and gave the album to the boy. The whole man
seemed to be changed. There was a flicker in his eyes. "Here," he
said, handing money to the boy, "this is to buy yourself.... " He
stopped, and looked at the boy with a kind of absent-minded curiosity.
"What do boys of your age buy themselves in this country?"
The boy hesitated. At the sight of the unusually large tip, he
had quickly weighed the alternatives of taking his girl to the pictures
or to a dance hall. Now he desperately searched his mind for a more
class-conscious investment.
"It
depends ... " he said cautiously, his
mind working. He was saved from further mental effort by a knock
at the door and the entry of a valet in a striped waistcoat, just as
valets were dressed in the movies. The boy took his chance and with
a mumbled phrase of thanks, sidled out of the door.
"You asked for a needle and thread, sir," said the valet, offering
these objects on a small silver tray with a look of unconcealed con–
tempt. Leontiev had quite forgotten his request; now that he remem–
bered it, it seemed to him that considerable time had elapsed since
he had made it. "Why did it take so long?" he asked sternly. "Now
it is no longer necessary." "Very good, sir," said the valet, turning
on his heel. "Wait," said Leontiev, and took his dressing-gown off.
"You may keep this.
It
is made of very good material." The valet
held the dressing-gown between two fingers, his little finger stretched
out to indicate his disgust. "Very good, sir. I shall give it to a char–
itable organization." "Yes," said Leontiev absently. "And bring me
some brandy." "That's the room service, sir," said the valet, giving
the waiter's bell button a vicious push as he went out. The valet was
a member of the National Rally, who hated all foreigners, and par–
ticularly those from the Commonwealth.
As the door closed behind him, the telephone began to ring
again. Leontiev lifted the receiver; it was Nikitin calling from the
