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te speaking spot of Lenin's。 Now it seemed faded； worn； almost shabby beneath the ornate gilt。
When they had ordered； Natasha said； 〃I wanted a chance to speak with you； Katya； because your reading of Albee intrigued me。〃 She stirred sugar into her tea； watched the crystals melting。 〃It's from Finland； this sugar； did you know that？ I don't know why there's never enough sugar and never any milk here。 Where does it all go； do you suppose？ I've heard that White Star hijacks the trucks and trains that bring these staples to Moscow； but it's difficult to credit such stories。〃
Irina said nothing； sensing that Natasha was merely musing； not asking a question。 Instead she dissected the other woman with her eyes。 Natasha was indeed a beauty： blond； blue…eyed； with a dynamic face that might have been judged overly aggressive save for her mouth； which was soft； gentle； inviting。 Irina hated that face。
〃Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf？ is not an easy play to decipher；〃 Natasha said。 She took a sip of her tea； wrinkled her nose。 〃Not strong enough。 This must be for the tourists！〃 She gave Irina a small smile that was at once so shy and so genuine that Irina was taken aback。
〃And also the characters are so plex；〃 Natasha continued； 〃perhaps also stupefyingly American。〃 She paused； as if momentarily unsure how to continue。 〃You handled the character well。 Very well； indeed。〃
〃Thank you。〃 Irina thought Natasha so glamorous； with the actor's natural ease and grace in all situations； that she had begun to grind her teeth in envy and rage。
〃As I've no doubt you are aware； Martha requires a certain inner rage； like a pot untended for too long； simmering on the stove； its contents about to burst out and scar the kitchen forever。〃 She looked up at Irina and； with the actor's impeccable timing； said； ''But I sensed in you a very real anger； a deep pool of rage from which you created your Martha。 I wanted to speak to you of this anger because I wonder if you are aware how pletely you are in its grip。〃
Irina did not know what to make of this； was she； perhaps； offended by it？ But then she thought of her recurring nightmare； her living prison； where even the moon was barred。 Sometimes she awoke from this nightmare so upset that she felt nauseous。 Could that be the result of rage？ She looked at Natasha Mayakova with renewed suspicion。 She had had friends for years who would never think to ask her such a personal and disturbing question。 〃Is this more of your 'perestroika' talk？〃 she said。
Natasha gave her little laugh again； and there was the shyness again； playing around her face like an imp； defusing Irina's deliberate sharpness。 〃Oh； that foolishness。 Well； it's what my students want to hear； what they expect。 It's harmless； really； but I've found it immediately puts them at their ease。〃
〃It isn't foolish；〃 Irina said； 〃It's dangerous talk。〃
〃Really？ In what way？〃
''What your 'harmless' speech says is； shouldn't we be happy now； shouldn't we be content because today is the day we are allowed to run around Daddy's garden without a leash。〃
〃What's wrong with that？〃
〃It's all wrong；〃 Irina said。 〃Because the leash isn't the issue。 Woof！ Woof！ We're still treated like dogs。〃
Natasha ordered vodka for them both and a platter of zakuski…a kind of Russian antipasto。 When they were alone again； she said； 〃Olga； Masha； and Irina； Chekhov's three sisters； sit around for hours on end talking about how； one day； they will get to Moscow。 They never do； of course； and by the end of the play we've discovered that they live only a few kilometers from the city。 I think this is what you are speaking of。''
Irina again felt overe by the irrational wave of jealousy； as if she wanted to shriek at Natasha； What are you doing with Valeri Bondasenko？ Are you making love to him every afternoon before rehearsals？ Or do you share his bed on the nights when I am not there？
Ridiculous！ Impossible！ Yet why was she thinking it？ Irina held herself together with an effort； wondering again whether she was on the brink of a breakdown。 She said； trying to clear her mind of its disturbing emotional clutter； 〃How smug you are。 You think you know just what you are and what you're doing。 You run your little school secure in the thought that you're preserving a better place in the state for women。 But the truth is； you're blind。
〃You're part of the system； and； in a sense； you're worse than the KGB。 Everyone knows what the KGB is and what it does。 It's no secret。 But you are one thing while pretending to be another。 You perpetuate the system by telling your students how well off they are now； how grateful to the state they must be for their new； improved status。 But what really is your message？ Don't plain； be happy； do as you're told。 Look how well…off you are。 Look how free。 It's bullshit！〃
〃You must want to leave my class； then；〃 Natasha said； finishing off her tea。
〃No； I don't。 I can put up with the bullshit； just as long as I learn how to act。〃
〃It seems to me；〃 Natasha Mayakova said as the drinks and food were served； 〃that you won't need many lessons。〃
They ate in silence for some time。 Irina was acutely aware of the tourists； especially their clothes； which she loved to look at and longed to wear。 In Boston； in a lingerie store； she had tried on a silk Charmeuse teddy； and had almost passed out from the erotic sensation of the divine material gliding against her flesh。 She shot a clandestine glance at Natasha。 How she wished she could share her decadent memory with someone。 Her whole mind ached to open itself up； to let the secrets piling up inside spill out； to share； to share。
〃In acting；〃 Natasha said softly； 〃we learn to dissect the different personality types found in lead and secondary roles。 You have proved tonight that you already possess that talent。〃
She said it in such a way that Irina found herself saying； 〃I'm sorry；〃 when she knew she could not possibly mean it。
〃Don't be；〃 Natasha said。 She wiped her lips on a paper cocktail napkin。 〃I imagine I deserved it。 I haven't been carved up as skillfully since my own first weeks in acting class。 I had an instructor who was a marvelous actor； but he was an absolute ogre in the classroom。 I worshiped him； and nearly died of delight when he accepted me into his class。 From then on I burst into tears in front of him more often than not。 I used to lie awake at night； replaying his murderous criticisms； miserable as could be。 I could hear his rantings echoing in my dreams。 His words stalked me like an apparition； until all I could think about was making him stop。〃
〃Did you？〃 Irina asked。
〃Yes。 I became an acplished actor。〃 Natasha ordered more vodka。 〃That's all he ever wanted from me。 He saw in me…as opposed to the majority of his other students…a potential for greatness。 Those are his words； not mine。 He made certain I lived up to that potential。〃
〃By making you miserable？〃
〃By forcing me to look inside myself； to find that potential and mine it for the precious ore he knew was there。〃 Natasha paused while the empty glasses were replaced。 〃You see； Katya； I was an orphan。 I was brought up in a state institution and I had inside of me a ball of ice； a