To the very end of his hectic three-week power-plant tour, pudgy little Georgy Malenkov kept smiling his guileless-looking kewpie doll's smile, fascinating working girls, and murmuring sweet nothings to every Briton within handshaking range of his far-flying ZIS limousine. "Such a charmer," said the Daily Herald. "Irresistible," admitted a woman from the Tory Daily Sketch. Last week, between sending a Russian perfume called "Night" to Ballerina Margot Fonteyn and paying a visit to Karl Marx's grave in London's Highgate Cemetery, the adroit advance man for Khrushchev and Bulganin smiled unrlaggingly through a huge...
Foreign News: The Bland Advance Man
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