"Maria? – Gora asked the pretty girl.

She turned, "Yes… And you, I think, are Gavriil Vladimirovich."

"Yes, yes, that's absolutely right. Can I ask you something?" – Gora, like any self-respecting boss, had a knack for and liked to discern the wording of a sentence, such as the one he was using now. The expression "May I talk to you" and its derivatives were common, but he had noticed that the word "talk" not infrequently alarmed the interlocutor, so his interpretation of this address would include the word "ask", which, in particular, was very applicable to women who liked to talk about themselves.

"Of course you can. Just wouldn't want to take a break from work," her eyes were brimming with sincerity. – You're probably already aware of the fact that we're not tucking in today…"

"Altruistic, but partially so. That's a good thing. Will make an excellent mother… and wife too, of course," Gabriel thought and said: "That's alright, you don't have to worry about that issue. Our team will help your…you know what I mean."

"Honestly, it doesn't matter what rank you'd be, but if I didn't know your authority I wouldn't believe you," the girl admitted and jumped off the wagon and onto the ground.

Finally, she stood a step away from the Mountain, the light fully illuminating her. She was even lovelier than before.

She even looked a little like her fiance, and her eyes were almost the same: They showed a will (internal, to the core, though of a different character), a certain impenetrability (much less than Raphael's, and it covered personal places, not everything that was of interest), as well as the absence of weakness (of course, everyone has weaknesses, but both Raphael and Mary did not show them, he because of his intransigence to himself, she – unwillingness to show it to others, and if something did not work out, they all had "their" ways out: Raphael's was prayer and self-conviction, Maria's was anger up to certain limits; she was angry, in principle, on every occasion, but always exclusively at herself, which moved forward, to achieve the goal, which she could not fail to achieve). In addition to her eyes, her facial expressions were noteworthy, which, if successfully "translated", showed her moods, including her own.

"So, what did you want to ask me?"

"You don't know a guy… blond hair, like yours, skin so white, well quite former, and also his arm has burns on it… left?" – the future son-in-law asked slyly.

"Raphael? Are you talking about your son?" "Yes, yes… And you know him well?"

"Well, I know almost everyone here already… And how well… well, that's not for me to judge."

Gora almost cringed -Raphael, was he specially preparing her for this kind of talk? Or is she that amazingly intelligent? No, she's not. Obviously both.

Gabriel decided it was time to ask directly, "Mary, do you love my son?" "Yes… I love it very much."

"Have you guys been dating long?"

"No, I wouldn't say that, but that doesn't stop me from loving him." "And for timing, clarify…"

"Three years… A little more."

"Do you consider that, under our circumstances, to be 'not long ago'?"

"I don't know exactly what conditions you're talking about, but it takes a long time for people to understand each other… Especially under these conditions."

"Generally speaking, you're right. I've been with my wife for seventeen years and I've never fully understood her.

You're right. It takes a lot of time. I don't have a home of my own." "I'm glad you understand me."

"Yes… as far as I know, you have a wedding coming up…" "Yes. Raphael was going to tell you today."

"so… you're in enough of a relationship to get married."

"I love him… And he loves me too… It's more than 'enough' for me."

"Then you may consider that you have my blessing… I wish you happiness…"

"Thank you. That's the best I could hope to hear from you. Thank you, Gavriil Vladimirovich."

"Yes and…I wish…" – Gabriel was about to say the word "grandchildren" when Maria suddenly vomited. Easily, out of the blue. Gabriel himself had a wife, he didn't need to explain why such things happen – the question dropped by itself.

Maria immediately got to her feet, so that Hora only had time to help her by supporting her by the elbow. "Masha, darling, what's wrong?"

"It's okay, it's okay. It's okay."

"You don't have to try to fool me. I've got a kid myself. So how many do you have?" "A month, or rather almost four weeks."

"It's nothing, don't worry. It's a common thing… I'll go tell Vanya to set you free…" "Don't. It's okay."

"I have to. You bet I do. I want healthy grandchildren, so no talking." "Thank you, Gavriil Vladimirovich. I'm glad I have such a father-in-law." "I'm pleased with you too… And one request…"

"Which one?"

"Love him always as he is now."