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Playing
white
,
Laev
still
had
the
advantage
.
He
made
moves
that
contained
cunningly
deceptive
threats
,
but
she
parried
them
without
losing
tempo
or
position
.
On
the
twenty
-
fourth
,
she
found
an
opportunity
for
a
finesse
,
opening
a
file
for
her
queen
rook
while
forcing
him
to
retreat
a
bishop
,
and
when
she
made
it
,
Laev
studied
it
for
a
long
while
and
then
looked
at
her
in
a
new
way
,
as
though
he
were
seeing
her
for
the
first
time
.
A
quiver
of
pleasure
went
through
her
.
He
studied
the
board
again
before
retreating
the
bishop
.
She
brought
the
rook
over
.
Now
she
had
equality
.
Five
moves
later
she
found
a
way
of
adding
to
it
.
She
pushed
a
pawn
to
the
fifth
rank
,
offering
it
in
sacrifice
.
With
the
move
,
as
quietly
pretty
as
any
she
had
ever
made
,
Laev
was
on
the
defensive
.
He
did
not
take
the
pawn
but
was
forced
to
bring
the
knight
it
attacked
back
to
the
square
in
front
of
his
queen
.
She
brought
her
rook
to
the
third
rank
,
and
he
had
to
respond
to
that
.
She
was
not
pushing
him
so
much
as
pressing
gently
.
And
gradually
he
began
to
yield
,
trying
to
look
unconcerned
about
it
.
But
he
must
have
been
astonished
.
Russian
grandmasters
were
not
supposed
to
have
this
done
to
them
by
American
girls
.
She
kept
after
him
,
and
finally
the
point
was
reached
where
she
could
safely
post
her
remaining
knight
on
queen
five
,
where
he
could
not
dislodge
it
.
She
put
it
there
and
,
two
moves
later
,
brought
her
rook
over
to
the
knight
file
,
directly
above
his
king
.
He
studied
it
for
a
long
time
while
his
clock
ticked
loudly
and
then
did
what
she
had
fervently
hoped
he
might
do
;
he
pushed
the
king
bishop
pawn
up
to
attack
the
rook
.
When
he
punched
his
clock
,
he
did
not
look
at
her
.
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Without
hesitation
she
picked
up
her
bishop
and
took
his
pawn
with
it
,
offering
it
as
sacrifice
.
When
the
referee
posted
the
move
she
heard
an
audible
response
from
the
spectators
and
whispering
.
Laev
would
have
to
do
something
;
he
could
not
ignore
the
bishop
.
He
began
running
his
fingers
through
his
hair
with
one
hand
,
drumming
the
tips
of
the
others
on
the
table
.
Beth
leaned
back
in
the
chair
and
stretched
.
She
had
him
.
He
studied
the
move
for
twenty
minutes
on
the
clock
before
he
suddenly
stood
up
from
the
table
and
held
out
his
hand
.
Beth
rose
and
took
it
.
The
audience
was
silent
.
The
tournament
director
came
over
and
shook
her
hand
too
,
and
she
walked
off
the
stage
with
him
to
sudden
,
shocking
applause
.
*
*
*
Отключить рекламу
She
was
supposed
to
have
lunch
with
Mr
.
Booth
and
some
people
who
were
coming
over
from
the
embassy
,
but
when
she
walked
into
the
vast
lobby
of
the
hotel
,
which
felt
like
a
carpeted
gymnasium
with
Victorian
armchairs
lining
its
walls
,
he
was
not
there
.
The
lady
at
the
desk
had
a
message
for
her
on
a
sheet
of
paper
:
I
m
really
awfully
sorry
,
but
some
work
has
come
up
over
here
and
we
won
t
be
able
to
get
away
.
I
ll
be
in
touch
.
The
note
was
typed
,
with
Mr
.
Booth
s
name
,
also
typed
,
at
the
bottom
.
Beth
found
one
of
the
hotel
restaurants
another
carpeted
gymnasium
of
a
room
and
managed
enough
Russian
to
order
blinchiki
and
tea
with
blackberry
jam
.
Her
waiter
was
a
serious
-
faced
boy
of
about
fourteen
,
and
he
served
the
little
buckwheat
cakes
onto
her
plate
and
spread
the
melted
butter
and
caviar
and
sour
cream
for
her
with
a
little
silver
spoon
.
Except
for
a
group
of
older
men
in
army
officers
uniforms
and
two
authoritative
-
looking
men
in
three
-
piece
suits
,
there
was
no
one
else
in
the
restaurant
.
After
a
moment
another
young
waiter
came
by
with
a
pitcher
of
what
looked
like
water
on
a
silver
tray
,
and
a
little
shot
glass
beside
it
.
He
smiled
at
her
pleasantly
.
Vodka
?
She
shook
her
head
quickly
.
Nyet
and
poured
herself
a
glass
of
water
from
the
cut
-
glass
pitcher
in
the
center
of
the
table
.