So behind the empty conversations deprived of everyone sense, the rare toasts said generally by Sascha, time of the first stop after Moscow came. Here and my station, is time Sascha, having piled up a heavy bag, took in hands a guitar. Well, good-bye children. Sharply jerked on itself a compartment door. And, Sascha waved a hand. You the main thing, it, the mobster, be not lost.