W. thinks of Trotsky in exile, having been expelled from the Central Committee, expelled from Russia, staying in Turkey, then Paris, then Mexico, writing articles about the betrayal of the revolution, about his hatred of Stalin.
He thinks of Trotsky receiving news of his relatives, killed one by one. His son, poisoned, his daughters, hanged; his brother, shot, his sister, exiled.
He thinks of Trotsky in his Mexican stockade, the sword of Stalin hanging over his head, dreaming of a new revolution, a supplementary one, that would set the Russian revolution back on its course …
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