"Enormous ferrous lock, what since I never saw anymore, hung on a низенькой, covered by sheet iron door.And brought me over to this door here that. It was in the half of the eightieth years, at the end of September. I worked then in the "Russian lists" and returned from a night fire on Small Бронной. I see, from boulevard of the Patriarch ponds of тропотит by shallow steps, hardly not hurries, little man with the reddish rounded beard and by little "north" piercing peep-holes merrily looking, seeing nothing from under rumpled полястой шляпенки. He on is put was in fashionable then among not rich intelligentsia brown размахайку-крылатку".