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at the next table.
She was wearing blue jeans and a wide, golden bodice, not reaching the navel. From his flat bangs “A la Cleopatra” on the pensioner looked big green eyes.
Her jaws worked, chewing something.
- What do you want? – She asked, with his eyes to the ceiling and shaking his leg.
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- And what?
- It is necessary to serve a peasant.
- You what? – She stopped chewing and stared at the big man.
- His – he nodded in the direction of Ivan Emilyanovicha.
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