She had golden eyebrows, very fair and yet dark enough to be seen against her pale skin. They looked like golden arcs over the blue sky of her eyes. "I doubt it," she said. "Russia is Christian. And it never took to communism. It wavered, perhaps, and tried mixed programs, but it never gave in."
Lin sighed. He was putting it badly. Or perhaps he was wrong. The more he talked to Emma the more he felt that,
indeed, she was more like him than not like him. So, why this vile submission? Why an history of aristocratic dictatorship, maintained until toppled only by the worse dictatorship of communism? How could a people live like that and never discover the rights of the individual, the value of a human life? "Russia was near China," he said. "They didn't dare . . .."
"I don't think that's it," Emma said. "I think oh, I think something happened, somewhere, something that twisted us. I mean there was Rome, and Greece. They had democratic institutions at one time. By their lights, of course."
Yes, there had been Greece, and Rome, though little was known about them.
Lin sighed. "Let's not talk about that," he said. "Tell me about your dreams. What you think the future will bring."
Emma grinned. Her blue-sky eyes cleared. She talked of what she envisioned her generation, blessed with faster communications than ever before, would not be kept prisoner to a dying ideal. They would move forward. They would move on. They would acquire right to vote. Listening to her, it was almost easy to believe.
And all the while he kept pondering the question. Should he go back home? He wanted to go back home. And he had the chance now that his first term abroad was up. He could go home to a nice promotion and a whole lot of hardship pay. He could find a girl, get married.
But who would lend Emma the daily paper then?
* * *
"I've signed up for another year," Lin told Emma.
He sat on his bed in his hotel room. He'd been telling her all about the youth movements