Petkoff said flatly, "is my pleasure. That is how we
arrange matters in Russia."

And so the tour had started, with Red Square. Malone told himself he
didn't really mind if it weren't red, but he did think it could at
least look sinister. Unfortunately, the Square did not seem
particularly willing to oblige.

"So this is Red Square," Malone said, after a long silence.

"You do not sound interested," Petkoff said in what sounded like a
vaguely ominous voice. "Because it is not painted in capitalistic and
obvious colors, it bores you?"

"Not exactly," Malone said. "But when you've seen one Square, you've
seen them all, is how I feel about it. There must be somewhere else to
sight-see."

"Somewhere?" Petkoff said. "There is everywhere. This is Moskva, the
capital and the greatest city in Mother Russia. That is what we are
told to say." He lowered his voice. "Personally," he added, "I come
from Leningrad. I prefer it. But in Moskva one talks only of Moskva."

"I know just how you feel," Malone assured him. "I've been to San
Francisco."

"Well, then," Petkoff said, almost smiling at him. "What is there you
would like to see?"

Malone fished in his pocket for an American cigarette. He'd brought a
carton with him, having once tried Russian makes. They seemed to be
mostly cardboard, both the long filter and the tobacco. He lit the
cigarette and thought for a second. "I don't suppose," he said
cautiously, "that we could take a look around inside the Kremlin,
could we?"

"Aha," Petkoff said. "I see what is in your mind."

"You do?" Malone said, startled.

"Naturally," Petkoff said. "You wish to see the tomb of Lenin. It is
famous throughout the world."

Malone considered that for a minute. "Somehow," he said cautiously,
"the coffin of Lenin doesn't exactly sound like a gay start for
sight-seeing."

Petkoff looked pleased instantly. "I understand," he said. "Truly I
understand. You, too, feel sad over the death of the great Lenin. How
beautiful! How cultured!"

Malone wondered whether or not to disillusion the man, and decided
against it. "Well, something like that," he said vaguely.

"I'll tell you what: is there a restaurant around here where we could
get something to eat?"

"To eat?" Petkoff said, still looking pleased. "You wish to eat?"

"Well," Malone said, "I'm rather hungry, and I guess the ladies must
be, too."

"What?" Luba said, returning to the group. She had joined Her Majesty
in viewing the