Litvinoff adores him and throws him about and makes him stand on his head. Coming home Litvinoff and I, hatless, ran races down the hill. To my great humiliation he outran me. He is a heavy man and I run well, but he was not even out of breath.
On the way back in the open car, they all sang Russian folk songs in a chorus. Bolsheviks are a very cheerful species.
We reached the hotel just in time to pick up our luggage and catch the train for Stockholm.
There were real cordial good-byes all round. Litvinoff said that if I did not get through from Stockholm, I must come back to Kristiania and he would send someone with me to take me through Murmansk, but Mrs. Litvinoff said that I should get through from Stockholm. “That sort of person always gets what she wants” she said, but gave no further comment, and I am wondering what sort of person I am.
The two secretaries gave me messages for friends in Moscow, and seemed very envious of anyone going back. One of them (with most beautiful chestnut hair), held forth to me on the great difference the Revolution had brought in the position of women. She is an ardent Communist, and works 10 hours a day with a willing heart and little pay. She added as a last appeal: “Go and see for yourself, and then say nice things about us when you get back to England.”
September 15th. Stockholm, Sweden.
We arrived at 8.30 a.m., and were met at the station by Frederick Ström, head of the left wing Socialist party of Sweden. It was an interesting contrast to my arrival in former years when the Crown Prince himself used to meet me and take me in a royal car to the Palace. I felt a great sadness as I passed that old Palace, and the windows of Princess Margaret’s rooms which I knew so well. The days when I used to stay there seemed very long ago and of another world.
We drove to the Grand Hotel which, however, proved to be full, but we were not at a loss: we drove off to a perfectly charming apartment belonging to the Krassins, but which in their absence is inhabited by a Comrade Juon.
There we were most courteously received, and given a splendid breakfast.
Juon is about six feet and a half high, and broad in proportion, with a black beard and a kindly expression. His eyes have exceptionally big pupils, which give a curious gleam and keenness to his expression. His brother in Russia is a well-known painter.