I went in the morning to fetch away the bust and take it to my room in
the Kremlin. I went at 11, before Trotsky had got there. His motor was
at my disposal and three men to convey the precious work away. These are
the moments that take years off my life! It arrived, however, undamaged,
which was little short of a triumph. When my plaster-moulder saw it he
exclaimed with pleasure. Apparently it is very like, and everyone is
pleased. As Trotsky is adored, I take it as a great compliment to my
work that it is considered good enough.
The relief of having accomplished him as well as Lenin is indescribable.
I wake up in the night and wonder if it is true or a dream. Now I am
completely happy. I have achieved my purpose. I have proved myself to
these people, and they in return have proved their belief in me by their
trouble and courteousness. I am no longer harassed by anxieties and
fears. Those who discouraged me in the early days treat me now with
respect, consideration and even admiration. I am happy, I am happy! I
sing when I wake in the morning, I sing when I wash in cold water, I
come down to my breakfast of black bread with a lighter step!
I breakfast every morning with Litvinoff. By coming down at 11 the
others have finished, so we can talk. If Rothstein is present the
conversation becomes Russian. If Vanderlip is there he talks all the
time about America (he usually leaves the room with boredom if
conversation is on any other subject). It is the fashion in Europe to
vilify Litvinoff and to regard him as a terribly dangerous man. I
suppose that he is an astute diplomatist. Whatever he is, he is better
than he pretends, and though he gets no credit for it, he has done a
good deal for the British prisoners here. He has unfortunately an abrupt
manner, and a way of refusing to do things by pretending that they are
no concern of his, but straightway he will go off and do a kindness to
the very people who are damning him for having refused. To me he is
charming, frank, outspoken, and always ready to help.