“But he’d be miserable,” Richard protested.
Valeria Petrovna laughed softly. “You are not very complimentary, Mistaire Eaton — ’ave I not told you that I love ’im — also ’e loves me. All right, I shall register with ’im.”
“Register? What do you mean?”
“Marry ’im — as all things are, Stalin would nevaire release ’im — if ’e is to remain in Russia and become my ’usband, that is different — Stalin will not refuse.”
From comparative serenity Richard was thrown into a state of acute anxiety. How would Simon view this extraordinary plan? To give up his life entirely, everything to which he was attached, his active career, with its multitude of interests, and become the lapdog husband of this famous actress; to start life anew in this extraordinary country as a suspect, with principles utterly opposed to those of the State. Of course, Richard reflected, as he caught a glimpse of her beautiful smiling dark eyes, if he loved this woman enough, anything was possible. Besides, Simon was a Jew, and Jews could make a home in any country; exile was never quite so terrible for them. Perhaps Simon would go native, become a Kommissar. With these thoughts whirling through his brain Richard looked once more at the tall dark woman by his side — the problem was too much for him! “Well, you know best,” he said; “but what about De Richleau and Van Ryn? You can’t marry them as well!”
“What of them?” she shrugged again. “They are saboteurs both — I ’ave no interest in what ’appens to them — it is for Simon only that I worry.”
“But you promised,” he protested, quickly.
“I promised nothing.” She gave him a sharp look. “Only for Simon — ’e is your frien’. Why should you trouble for these others?”
“Look here,” said Richard firmly, “they are all my friends. I don’t know what you meant when you spoke about it in your flat, but I understood that you were going to get them all out of this. If you’re not I won’t go — I’ll stay and do what I can myself.”
“So...” She raised her well-marked eyebrows. “Think again, my frien’ — I ’ave but to speak a word to the officer ’ere — to say I tell the untruth about my little cousin — ’e will ’ave ’er arrested quick — ’ow will that please you?”