plain room in one of the big palaces of the
Kremlin : no flunkies announced my arrival,
and although soldiers guarded the outer
entrances to the palace, his rooms were quite
unguarded. There were groups of women
clerks working away on typewriting machines,
but an absolute lack of ostentation of any sort
or kind pervaded the building. I contrasted
the sort of study in which I found him with
that used by cabinet ministers in this or any
other country. Here I was face to face with
the man who was centre of the greatest
revolution in the history of the world, foremost
leader in the re-organisation and rebuilding of
the life of a nation comprising over 100 million
human beings, beset on all sides by open
enemies and false friends, attempting to build
up life for a nation as the children of Israel
centuries ago attempted to make bricks without straw. It was hard to realise that this was
the man who was carrying on his shoulders the
tremendous burden which a starving, disease
stricken nation imposed.
When I saw him he had just recovered from a serious illness, and yet he was cheerful and apparently vigorous ; not for one moment did conversation on his side flag, nor for an instant did he hesitate to answer the most direct, clear-cut questions in a straightforward, honest manner. Cabinet Ministers in other countries would have talked of their troubles, of their
