I was horrified at the change which the Revolution had wrought in Petrograd. Its quiet, well-bred look had completely disappeared, it wore the aspect of a person just recovering from a drunken bout. Red flags were everywhere, and crowds of unrestful people were waiting in long queues outside the bakers’ shops. This sight roused Anna from her lethargy of grief, and, childish as ever, she remarked, quite happily, “Well, Lili, it’s no better _after_ the Revolution than it was before.” I silenced her further criticisms with a glance at the A.D.C.’s, and I felt quite relieved when our carriage sank first in one, and then in another of the dirty heaps of snow which cumbered the streets, and which had not been removed by the road sweepers. No policemen were visible; law and order had ceased to exist, but groups of odd-looking people hung about at the corners of the streets. These loungers were unmistakably Jews.... The Ghetto-like appearance of Petrograd was amply accounted for. The carriage stopped outside the Palais de Justice, and we were conducted down seemingly endless corridors to a room on the fourth floor. This room was empty, save for two easy chairs, a small chair and a table on which stood a carafe of cold water. The aides-de-camp told us to ask the sentinels for anything we wanted, and they were about to leave us alone when I said to one of them: “Will you try and let my servants know that I’m here?” “Impossible,” he answered, “but in your next prison you’ll be allowed to see your friends once a week.” The young men then went away, and Anna at once began to cry. I tried to console her, but I was completely worn out--my powers of endurance had snapped, since there was no one to be brave for! The room was bitterly cold, and we huddled together, wondering what next would happen. Suddenly shots rang out in the corridor ... were they harbingers of death? The firing was followed by coarse laughter, and a soldier ran into our room. “Ah ... ha!... ha!!...” he mocked, “were you afraid ... did you think you were going to be killed?”[15] As I sat in the cheerless room, thinking over many things, I suddenly remembered that Anna had a great predilection for carrying letters and photographs about with her--my heart sank--supposing that she had done so now? “Anna,” I said, trying to speak lightly, “what papers have you brought away with you?” “Oh, lots, Lili,” answered Anna. “I’ve some letters of the Empress, some letters from Gregory, and two photographs of him.” I suppose my expression must have betrayed me. Anna began to whimper.... “Oh, Lili, why do you look so grave? Surely they won’t treat us badly? What _shall_ we do?” “You must give me every paper in your possession.” She demurred. “But _why_, Lili?” “Because it’s dangerous to retain anything connected either with Her Majesty or with Rasputin. The worst construction is likely to be placed on the most innocent expressions ... you cannot surely wish to injure the Empress!”