- “I understand that I’m prying into my own business, but here,” a friend threw a thin folder on the table. He opened it and leafed through it. On the first page there is a photo of the waitress and a short dossier. He understands without words. — If you liked this girl so much, why not take her for yourself? — I don’t know myself, Kostya. Did you see how she looks at me? She’s so timid, as if she’s about to faint. — Your attention is an unspeakable success for someone like her. — You know me, I don’t stand on ceremony with women. And she’s almost like a child. — She’s twenty, Oleg. Not so little. - I don’t know... - I don’t recognize you. You're not behaving seriously. You drive here endlessly, like a teenager in love, and do nothing. He raised his tired gaze to his friend. He is right. If I can’t get the girl out of my head, then I’ll make her mine.