- Of course, Mr. Sun, tonight we are waiting for you for dinner, - Sylvester smiled broadly, and putting the phone on the lever, turned sour. - How sick of this narrow-eyed one. Like a bone in my throat!

Eva, sweeping her cheekbones with a wide brush, cast a glance at him through the mirror of a gilded dressing table.

“Maybe they…” she broke off, “ he should still stay with us – they would take a steam bath, give him vodka to drink – it looks like he went completely wild there in Tokyo on this sake and rice of his.”

"You didn't want Sun to stay with us,...