Then she has told that will iron now and that I thus sat next and told to it about something cheerful. And I began to clean
ware, and the call to a door at this time was distributed.
Quietly singing "be better than mountains mountains can only...", I have gone to a vestibule, having thrown one only a
sidelong glance aside irki (it absolutely easy wiped a table a dry pure rag). Already turning the lock, I have recollected the
hammer, but it seemed to me ridiculous and awkward to come back behind it in the big room, and I have flung the door
High, absolutely young guy in a wet raincoat and with a wet fair hair indifferently declared: "the telegramme, I ask to
undersign...". I took from it a bit of a pencil and, having put the receipt to a wall, have written date and time under its help,
then have undersigned, have returned a pencil and the receipt, have thanked and have closed a door. I knew that good it is
impossible to wait for anything. There and then in a hall, under bright pjatisotsvechovoj a lamp, I have developed the
telegramme and have read it. Then I have accurately combined it four times, have turned off light and have gone on a
corridor. Irka already waited for me, having nestled a back on a door in a bathroom. I have stretched it the telegramme and
have gone directly to the table. I have collected leaves, have spread out them one after another and have put in a writing
book. Then I have got a brand new folder for papers, have enclosed there everything, have fastened tapes and, without
sitting down, have written on a cover a drawing font: "d.
Maljanov. To a question on interaction of stars with diffuzionnoj a matter in a galaxy. "Has re-read, has thought and has
densely crossed out" d. Maljanov ". Then I took a folder under a mouse and get out. Irka all stood at a door in a bathroom,
having pressed the telegramme to a breast. When I passed by it, it has made weak movement by a hand, whether trying to
detain me, whether to bless. I have told without looking:" I to vecherovskomu. I will soon return ".
On a ladder I rose slowly, a step behind a step, continually correcting a folder which was moving down at me from under
mice. Light on a ladder for some reason have not included, it was gloomy, and there was a silence, was audible only as the
water which is flowing down from a roof behind open windows splashes. On a platform of the sixth floor where in a niche at a
refuse chute those two kissed recently, I have stopped and have looked in a court yard. The huge tree is damp gleamed
black foliage, and the court yard was empty, and speckled pools from a rain shone.
I have met nobody on a ladder, only between the seventh and eighth floor sat, having writhed on the steps, any small pity
little man, having put near to myself a grey old-fashioned hat. I have cautiously bypassed it and began to rise further, and
suddenly it сказал:не go there, dmitry alekseevich...
I have stopped and have looked at it. It was gluhov.
Do not go there now, - he has repeated. - it is not necessary.