That did not answer his question, but he guessed he was not going to get any more from her.

Boris Kozlov, another of Khrushchev’s aides, called across the canteen: “Dimka! Come on!”

Dimka stood up. “Can we talk again soon?” he murmured.

Natalya looked down and said nothing.

Boris said: “Dimka, let’s go!”

He left.

The Presidium discussed Khrushchev’s proposal for most of the day. There were complications. Would the Americans insist on inspecting the launch sites to verify that they had been deactivated? Would Castro accept inspection? Would Castro promise not to accept nuclear weapons from any other source, for example China? Still Dimka thought it represented the best yet hope of peace.

Meanwhile, Dimka thought about Nina and Natalya. Before this morning’s conversation, he had thought it was up to him which of the two women he wanted. He now realized he had deluded himself into thinking the choice was his to make.

Natalya was not going to leave her husband.

He realized he was crazy for Natalya in a way he had never been for Nina. Every time there was a tap on his office door he hoped it was Natalya. In his memory he replayed their time together over and over, obsessively hearing again everything she said, up to the unforgettable words: “Oh, Dimka, I adore you.”

It was not I love you but it was close.

But she would not get a divorce.

All the same, Natalya was the one he wanted.

That meant he had to tell Nina their affair was over. He could not carry on an affair with a girl he liked second best: it would be dishonest. In his imagination he could hear Valentin mocking his scruples, but he could not help them.

But Natalya intended to stay with her husband. So Dimka would have no one.

He would tell Nina tonight. The four were due to meet at the girls’ apartment. He would take Nina aside and tell her . . . what? It seemed more difficult when he tried to think of the actual words. Come on, he told himself; you’ve written speeches for Khrushchev, you can write one for yourself.

Our affair is over . . . I don’t want to see you anymore . . . I thought I was in love with you, but I’ve realized I’m not . . . It was fun while it lasted . . .

Everything he thought of sounded cruel. Was there no kind way to say this? Perhaps not. What about the naked truth? I’ve met someone else, and I really love her . . .

That sounded worst of all.

At the end of the afternoon, Khrushchev decided the Presidium should put on a public display of international goodwill by going en masse to the Bolshoi Theater, where the American Jerome Hines was singing Boris Godunov, the most popular of Russian operas. Aides were invited too. Dimka thought it was a stupid idea. Who was going to be fooled? On the other hand, he found himself relieved to have to call off his date with Nina, which he was now dreading.