This is a club.

Surely chic. Zvyagina once told me that Korneev's company often indulges itself in renting the entire establishment. I understood it this way: rich kids do not want to see the lives of strangers at their holiday.

I am an outsider. Yes. But Sukhanov himself proposed. No one was pulled by the tongue. Of course, I could refuse. And at first she did so, until she changed her mind.

Now I'm picking out a dress from a pile of things. We still need to find a curling iron somewhere and dig it out. And the bag? What to do with a bag if two watermelons fit into...