Night was, infinite polar night as the window has suddenly swung open, and together with rustle of waves on flat galechnom
to coast in a hall the black big-nosed rook has flown. Having taken a detour over a table, he has taken seat on a chandelier
and skazal: - Vanka, not drejf! All will be good! I tell it to you, the Navel, it Big-bellied Patsyuk! I bless you with your Tzanoj.
Know, parshivets such that your far descendant wonderful doctor Itaj-itaj will occur from your marriage to it, from your great
love! And, having told it, the rook has departed, and the by itself window has slammed. And, ah! As all has changed behind
a wedding table! But whether costs about it? Who it such, this the Navel, Big-bellied Patsyuk? Perhaps, the newcomer from
the perfect worlds? Or from perfect times? It seems, than that is easier - to ask him. Yes is not present, language will not turn.
And whether costs? Time flies, and has put it is a lot of, oh as it is a lot of! And idle curiosity is tactlessness and ignorance
display - the most disgusting defects after cowardice.
We will be simply happy that the Navel, Big-bellied Patsyuk, on our party...
Late at night when all has abated in the house on an ocean coast, Galja and Porthos quietly left and lodge in the plane. Flied
all hour, and they flied on the east, and morning was in a heat when the Black Rock has grown from a mirror of Great ocean.
There, at stony top, there was a tomb. And on a gravestone, low having inclined, mother and father Vani have put on a
bouquet of northern colours.
Heated air worries over the burnt out porous slate of roofs, over the softened asphalt of direct deserted streets. In a hot haze
pale yellow walls of aseismic houses, rare prickly trees, thickets of teleaerials over houses wave. Streets are empty, the city
as if is thrown.
Here on the panel the hedgehog, big, ushastyj has run out from a dusty front garden.
Has moved a nose, I was drew in have rushed away, leaving on asphalt a chain of the pressed bird's traces.
And it is silent. Only howl - it is almost melodious - sticking out of windows melkorebristye boxes of the conditioners, expiring
streams of a water condensate.
Dmitry Alekseevich Maljanov, the growing stout man of years of thirty with small, sat in one cowards at a table and enough
smartly reprinted on the machine the article. In a room there was a yellowish twilight from the drawn curtains, was hot, is stuffy
and smoked. The hairy torso of Maljanova and its unshaven physiognomy are covered by large drops of sweat. On a table
the ashtray filled to the full smoked last stub, mountain the directories curtailed into a tube drawings and schedules, folders
with papers, card-index boxes lay.
However, Maljanov felt perfectly. It rumbled keys, has aloud read to the selected paragraphs, from time to time was tightened
by a stub and something corrected in the manuscript. It worked and was happy with the work.
And closeness he did not notice a heat.
From the equation fourteen, - he dictated to itself(himself), - to system of inequalities it is easy to see seven... It is easy to
see...
Obviously, it was not easy to see, because Maljanov has stopped to print the text, took a leaf of a draught copy and is deep
over it has reflected.
Has burst phone.
It is easy to see! - Maljanov to a telephone set has told.