In restaurant I have accepted an input for gate in a botanical garden.
I have entered into this garden, moving apart hands of a branch of exotic trees, going that on a soft grass, on rough plates of
a shell rock. In magnificent cool greens gomonili invisible birds, were heard quiet conversations, a jingle of knifes, laughter.
By my nose the golden birdie has flown by. It dragged in a beak a small sandwich with caviar.
I at your service, - have told a deep velvet voice.
From thickets the majestic man with cheeks on shoulders has acted to me towards.
The dinner, - has shortly told I. I do not love headwaiters.
Dinner... - he Has repeated considerably. - a dinner in a society? A separate little table? A separate little table. And
In a hand it had a notebook.
The man of your age will be glad to see at itself behind a table of Mrs. and Ms. Gamilton-rej...
Further, - I have told.
I would prefer the native, - I have told.
It has turned a leaf.
The doctor of philosophy of Opir has just sat down to table.
Perhaps, - I have told.
It has hidden bloknotik and has led me on the path which has been laid out by plates of sandstone. Somewhere around
talked, fur-trees, hissed siphons. In foliage multi-coloured bees humming-birds rushed about. The headwaiter respectfully
осведомился:как will order to present you? Ivan. The tourist and the writer.
To doctor Opiru was under fifty. It was pleasant at once to me because immediately, without any ceremonies has banished
the headwaiter for the waiter. It was ruddy, thick and is continuous and with pleasure spoke and moved.
Be not at a loss, - he when I was pulled for the menu has told. - all is already known. Vodka, anchovies under jajtsom - at us
them name pasifunchikami, - potato soup "face"...
With sour cream, - I have inserted.
Certainly!. Steam sturgeon on-astrahanski, a veal slice...
I want pheasants. Baked with feathers.
It is not necessary: not a season... A beef Slice, the eel in sweet marinade...
Coffee, - has told I.
Cognac, - has objected it.