- Ladnenko, - he has told tone more low. - have spat and have forgotten. What so was late? Road bad? - Ice, - the Employer
indifferently has picked up. - have hardly reached, the word of honour. Thought, we will break...
Not that the first will come running, who runs faster, - the owner of bed instructively, - and the one who will run out earlier has
said! It was necessary to leave earlier, then and was not late. Then and me, the old person, would not force to be nervous...
It is guilty, Alexey Matveevich, - has told the Employer submissively. - More will not repeat.
I hope! - the owner arrogantly has told and has asked with distinct hostility in a voice: - And it who with you? It - with you, I
believe? - With me, with me, - its Employer has calmed. Is my employee. JUra his name is. He will write down you, Alexey
Matveevich.
For history.
Ha! "Stories for history". Otchege. It is possible and for history, these are values does not influence...
By this moment Jury has already got gradually used to darkness and began pomalenku to understand conditions. Now he
saw that the room is great (its distant part, that that behind a bed, absolutely disappears in darkness), there is nearby, at the
left, a big oval table with chairs around, any titanic not that cases, not that buffets along a wall... A thick carpet underfoot...
Black squares of the windows densely corked with shaggy curtains...
All it was oddish (for a house for aged), but strannee all looked (in disseminated from catch a cold light) all the same the
owner: pobles - the nodding naked skull which has acquired on each side shaggy black volosnej, a shaggy beard
extensively, huge black glasses on half of face (such at the beginning of the century named "canned food") - it painfully
reminded someone, known all known and extremely unpleasant person any by all, and after a few Jury has understood -
whom: before it the Chechen gangster and terrorist Salman Raduev, personally-personally, without original, the truth, a
fighting peak-cap with a long peak, but - in underpants reclined on the disassembled bed.
Shaken by this small opening, Jury has missed the moment of representation, has bowed awkwardly and at the wrong time
and has begun to unbutton on itself a jacket, simultaneously looking around in search of a suitable seat. An far from it! - on a
floor sit down, on a floor! - the gangster, it the terrorist has disposed.
- On a carpet! A carpet good, convenient, sit down on the priest... And I do not order to undress! There is nothing here at me
fleas to shake.
Absolutely already stunned Jury has stood with fingers on last button, and the Employer - anything: there and then, without
telling a superfluous word, has crossed the long feet and has dexterously taken seat in Turkish two steps away from a bed,
without being confused at all that circumstance that its head has appeared now just at level of master's underpants. Jury still
fluctuated, but here the Employer so has looked at it (from below upwards) that it was necessary to fall immediately on
hunkers, and then and to pass in a lotus pose - overcoming a crunch in joints and painful pains in unextended, completely
not not adapted for such sudden feats, sinews.
And strange (and terrible) the owner already spoke - as if since morning still waited, in any way all could not wait and here
has hardly waited at last such rare and desired possibility. It as if has broken through. He spoke continuously, greedy, but
extremely confusedly, jumping from one on another without any visible system, and spervonachalu it is very difficult and even
it was almost impossible to understand: about what it it? About whom? About what places and times?.