"Always so tidy," Beria murmured. "And when the Gestapo decides they would like to count your adjectives with you?"
Molotov replied.
"Then you will earn your salary, Lavrenty Pavlovich, and ensure our messengers are ghosts."
He watched Molotov and the way Molotov did not move his hands when he lied or when he told the truth.
Stalin lifted the little card at last and held it near the lamp.
He read the line once, then again, as if expecting it to change the second time. "Borders reflect realities," he said, half to himself. "Realities are whatever men agree to fear."
He set the card down. "Hitler will not shake our hand. He will count our fingers."
"Then let him count," Molotov said. "He will miscount if he is hungry."
Voroshilov snorted. "You build castles on wolves' promises."
"I build scaffolds under our roof," Molotov said. "If the storm does not come, very well. If it comes, the men on the roof will fall without it."
