day near death, his tea and his voice became rough, but he’ll come, maybe you won’t recognize him, vetananiliar comfort that the immortal hour is not forgotten, the march wind whistled over the roof, his father and mother were snoring behind the partition i tossed and turned, sighed, and did not sleep. the lieutenant was lying prone, face in his palms, i really didn’t recognize it, i think, really didn’t admitted, they were hanging on a stretched rope near a washed footcloth, washed boots stood by the door, are you eating pancakes, she asked, he did not answer right away. he took off the stove, put the cloth on them, he tightened his belt and sat down on the bench in a deep voice, tell me, katya malysheva lives in your village, andrei stepanovich malysheva’s daughter, she finished her courses last year, she’s our teacher, and what, you need to see her? your son, he definitely asked to convey his regards, his mother sent a neighbor’s girl for her, the lieutenant didn’t have time to put on her shoes when katya malysheva came running, big ones. blond hair, that’s just how his girlfriend seeme