The corridor of the Moscow Police Headquarters resembled a Volga River sealed with bricks and stones. Although the weather had warmed considerably after the spring, it did not bring sunshine to the place most feared by Moscovites, as damp mildew spread over the lime walls like Siberian tundra.
As Arthur walked on the creaky pine wood floor, he momentarily heard the sound of exiles' shackles dragging on the ice—until he realized it was merely the sound of spurs clashing from the Cossacks and Constitutional Soldiers.
Two Constitutional Soldiers carrying carbines paced back and forth at the end of the corridor near a door. After Arthur presented his diplomatic passport, the soldiers first saluted him and then escorted him into an office.
