“I like,” I said. “Only it’s very raucous.”
“It’s always raucous at Naina’s,” said Roman. “A contrary old hag. She hasn’t taken advantage of you?”
“No,” I said. “We had almost no truck with each other.”
“Wait up,” said Roman. “Slow down.”
“What’s up?”
“There goes Volodia. Remember him?”
I braked. The bearded Volodia climbed into the back seat, and, beaming happily, shook our hands.
“Great!” he said. “I was just on my way to your place.”
“That’s all we needed there—you,” said Roman.
“How did it all end?”
“No how,” said Roman.
“Where are you going now?”
“To the Institute,” said Roman.
“What for?” I asked.
“To work,” said Roman.
“I’m on vacation.”
“That’s immaterial,” said Roman, “Monday begins on Saturday and August will begin in July, this time.”
“My friends are waiting,” I
