"But what's the purpose of the organization?" Simonov asked her.
She was driving her little aircushion Moskvich. They crossed over the Vltava River by the Cechuv Bridge and turned right. On the hill above them loomed the fantastically large statue of Stalin which had been raised immediately following the Second War. She grimaced at it, muttered, "I wonder if he was insane from the first."
He hadn't understood her change of subject. "How do you mean?" he said.
"Stalin. I wonder how early it was in his career that he went insane."
This was the second time in the past few days that Ilya Simonov had run into this matter of the former dictator's mental condition. He said now, "I've heard the opinion before. Where did you pick it up?"
"Oh, it's quite commonly believed in the Western countries."
"But, have you ever been, ah, West?"
"Oh, from time to time! Berlin, Vienna, Geneva. Even Paris twice, on vacation, you know, and to various conferences. But that's not what I mean. In the western magazines and newspapers. You can get them here in Prague now. But to get back to your question. There is no particular purpose of the organization."
She turned the car left on Budenská and sped up into the Holesovice section of town.