“What difference does it make? It was women’s business. What’s it matter to you?”
I insisted. Twisted Svetka’s arm even.
She snatched it away and cried:
“That hurts. Is that what you call a caress, Misha? Can’t you be any gentler?”
“No, I can’t. Well?”
“If I tell you, will you come back to my place?” Svetka had stopped trying to hide her cunning intentions. The come-hither look was insistent.
“Let’s go. Tell me.”
“Let’s walk first. I’ll tell you at home.”
I switched to another tactic:
“Svetochka, now’s not the right time to go to yours. I do want to. It’s just that I still have an awful lot to do today. For work. Understand? And I was only joking. Why should I interfere with your women’s stuff? I just thought maybe you’d been off somewhere with another man. I was jealous. I’m sorr
