First Paragraph

Not once had it occurred to her to think of him as the kind of man who would bring down a government and close off an era. But at that time - in those days - to whom had it occurred? If she had thought about it, then, of course, he was no revolutionary - he was a sybarite. She knew revolutionaries. Short men, serious men, men who marked their seriousness physically by being bald or mustachioed, or both. She knew. She'd been introduced to Lenin before she was ten years old - in much the same way the devout took their children to be blessed by the Pope. She'd been blessed by Lenin. Fat lot of good it did her.

- From A Little White Death by John Lawton