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<p style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;" data-flag="normal">Inside the Russian Embassy in London a KGBcolonel puffed a cigarette as he read the handwritten note for the third time.There was no need for the writer to express regret, he thought. Correcting thisproblem would be easy. He would do that in a moment. The thought of it caused agrim smile to appear and joy to his heart. But he pushed away those thoughtsand turned his attention to a framed photograph on his desk. His wife wasbeautiful, he told himself as he remembered the day they were married. That wasforty-three years ago, and it had been the proudest and happiest day of hislife.</p><p style="color:#333333;font-weight:normal;font-size:16px;line-height:30px;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;hyphens:auto;text-align:justify;" data-flag="normal">在伦敦的俄国使馆，一位克格勃上校一边吞云吐雾，一边读着一张手写的字条，这已是他第三次在读这张字条了。便条的作者不必表示遗憾了，上校这样想着。纠正这个错误...