Book-5. Troyan horse, novella. V. Speys

      All right, give! – Krazimov the door shut.

      – I’ve brought you oranges, pears. – Breaking away from the grip of her husband, she hastened to say. Sobinov looked around the room. At the dinner table with a wide window stood a fruit bowl full of oranges and pears. A huge bouquet of pink and white peony standing in a flower vase, filling the chamber intoxicating aroma, dipping Sobinov the homely atmosphere where there is no official worries and just peace and the love of a loved one surrounded by a halo of nature all his happiness.

      Chapter 4

      Leonid came out in the lobby, taking a dip in the usual, after the noisy Latin American companies, the silence. In the alley that led to the dining room, he encountered a group of Bengalis, was pacing in his underwear, which was granted to them in the infirmary center. Customs of the people have been embodied in his underwear with dangling drawstrings and white linen shirts at issue, relying to a set of underwear. Obviously, they arrived more recently on the rehabilitation and management of the center in the person of the head physician did not have time to report on hospital orders. Foreigners were talking animatedly about something, slowly heading into the dining room. Leonid curiously watched the group of Bengalis. At the entrance they were met by the head physician himself and brought to a nearby alcove, which were scattered in secluded areas of the park. Leonid same proceeded inside. With Bengalis he faced, leaving the dining room. They were already dressed in European fashion in colorful sleeveless prudently tucked into wrinkled cotton trousers tightened with leather straps.

      Library building was located a few meters from the dining room and the reading room, where he came in, was a fragrant scent of oriental spices wafting from there.

      Lyudmila Petrovna, the librarian of the center, who worked for decades as a librarian, greeted him with a charming smile, hiding, as it seemed to her age.

      – Can I help you, young man? – Playfully sparkling gray eyes, she met a visitor.

      – Hello, Lyudmila Petrovna! – Leonid politely said hello.

      – You can just, Luda! – Clarified librarian. A smile slowly left her face and to keep the last glimpses of kindness, smile fading. Leonid had, squeezing out words like hardened toothpaste from a tube:

      Lyudmila- Pet… Luda, I would library network search find something.

      On the re- shining face Lyudmila Petrovna friendly display the lines around his gray eyes shining with youth: Of course, of course, young man! And if I may ask?

      – Do not wait for an answer, she added: – Probably poems about passionate love, a lonely young man in a lonely suffering for it, girl?

      – With her eyes rolled back in the romantic impulse to an imaginary novel about two lovers hearts.

      – Yes! – He would say “Oh no!” – But in time he changed his mind, adding:

      – You Lyudmila probably wrote poems in … – faltered again got better – in school.

      – Yes you are, young man, I am writing them now! Listen to this:

      “.. A quiet, suave, walking,

      The night is filled with thee;

      The street is gone!