"Not Comrade," Hank said mildly. "I'm an American."
"What did you want?" she said coolly.
Hank indicated the travel folder he was carrying. "I'd like to take this tour to Leningrad and Moscow. I've been reading propaganda for and against Russia as long as I've been able to read and I've finally decided I want to see for myself. Can I get the tour that leaves tomorrow?"
She became businesslike as was within her ability. "There is no country in the world as easy to visit as the Soviet Union, Mr—"
"Stevenson," Hank Kuran said. "Henry Stevenson."
"Stevenson. Fill out these two forms, leave your passport and two photos and we'll have everything ready in the morning. The Baltika leaves at twelve. The visa will cost ten shillings. What class do you wish to travel?"
"The cheapest." And least conspicuous, Hank added under his breath.
"Third class comes to fifty-five guineas. The tour lasts eighteen days including the time it takes to get to Leningrad. You have ten days in Russia."
"I know, I read the folder. Are there any other Americans on the tour?"
A voice behind him said, "At least one other."