hard and disgusting, and Katka ached from the cold, entangled in sticky fabric ...
- Help! ..

Dima got up and barely pulled the dress on her, from which completely bloody Block fell to the ground. Dima bent down, but Katka was ahead of him and picked up a book, stuck together in a cake.
- Shoes ... where are the shoes?

She put on her shoes, leaned forward, stopped short, looked at Dima ...

- Wait. Do not! - asked Dima, but Katka pulled some imp - and she said:
- It is necessary. Goodbye, Master! Goodbye Dima!

She was suffocated with tears, but the demon told her to finish the scene until the end, and she rushed away.

- Wait! Adele! Adele !!! ... - Naked and wet Dima grabbed her hand, but Katka pulled away, leaving Block's sticky bits and pieces in his hand, and disappeared into a gray veil.

***

For two minutes she rushed to the Anichkov Palace.

- Katya Vyunkova! - She shouted to the guard, and he missed her, nodding respectfully. Katka ran into the back door, got lost in the corridors, wandered in them, God knows how much, until she got into the dressing room she knew. There was no one in it - only mountains of rags piled on tables and chairs, and the bitter smell of perfume, which struck in the nose, like ammonia. Katka barely dropped the wet dress on the floor, found her clothes, dried and crumpled, changed clothes, checked the keys in her pocket, the subway card, took out her glasses, put on her nose, jumped out in someone else's shoes ... returned, took them off - and ran out barefoot under the rain.

The security guard looked at her in surprise - and she ran along the empty Nevsky, on his opposite side, so as not to meet Dima - ran to the subway, splashing tears and rain.

Her sandals stood by the wall. She put them on, ran into the subway, went downstairs, got on the train - and shivered from the stifling heat spilled in the car. Rare passengers stared in surprise at the weeping girl in mint, wet clothes and ridiculous shafts - but no one spoke to her ...

... Upon entering the house, she reached the bed, grabbed it srach (right on the floor, without sorting), fell down - and immediately fell into a dream, full of sharp, shrill visions.

Downpour, modellers' mistakes, public exposure, reincarnation, a ball, a host, kisses, sex and orgasm in the rain, midnight, separation and escape — all mixed up in a heap of impressions that sparked in her like a relay under a shower, and Katka darted in her sleep, screamed laughed and cried, burrowing under the pillow ...

***

The morning began with a madhouse. The Oblzhansky family, stuffed with impressions, gossip and champagne, returned home at six o'clock - and found there a wet Katka, sleeping in the midst of a rout.

While Katka, rattled, cursed and put in place, raked mountains of junk, the Oblzhansky family let off steam over their morning tea:

- ... I go nuts just! This is not a ball, I don’t really know what! ..
- ... This Chelkin found some Adele herself there, and she took it from him and ran away. Ebanutoy some! Well, you do not want to be a queen - so give to another, fuck! ..
“... And you heard that this Vyuntsov, or whatever it is, there, well, which is in flowers, - so he is suing the court for a ball!” Like, his daughter was not allowed in there, left in the rain, and in her dress for five bucks they stuck some of their own, and instead of her ... No, well, complete nonsense, just kapets! I'm shocked ...
- ... And then they started to chase the lists, what kind of Adele is this? So it turned out, damn it, that not one Adele of girls was finally there, count up! Or she hung noodles, or finally mystic, count up? ..
- ... And right now, they are looking for her. Go to all the ball girls and looking for. And they will come to us. She left some damn thing to Chelkin, so he wants to type her to find her ...
- ... I finally can be in shock! Kick full, I'm sorry, of course ...

At 9.01, when the family was already snoring among the mountains of junk, somehow shoveled by Katka, Dusya was woken by a mobile phone. These were couriers who carried out the order of the organizing committee. Forty minutes later they rang the doorbell.

Fifteen more minutes passed, during which muffled screams, rustles and curses were heard - and, finally, the bedroom door opened, and sleepy, somehow dressed and made-up Sanka with Marka crawled out from there.

“Hello,” one of the couriers greeted them, and immediately told them: “In this bottomless azure, in the twilight of the near spring, winter storms cried, they wailed ...” and looked inquiringly at them.
- What? - they stared at him.
- Well? Who was real? - He tried to ask them.
- Where was it? - asked him.
- ... So, okay, the question is closed. We turn to the second paragraph. Does this mean nothing to you? - the courier showed them the tattered paper. It was half a small book, torn in half, sodden and dried. A black line spread across the gap: "... whether there are early dreams."

Such bewilderment reflected in the eyes of the sisters that the courier nodded, hid the remains of the book in his briefcase and said:
- All clear. Excuse for troubling. All the best ... uh, what's this? Whose is this?

On the hallway lay a piece of smashed book, the same as the previous one.

- Is it yours? Girls?..
- Nnnet, I don’t know ... that is, it seems, yes ... - Sanka and Marka, having looked at each other, rushed to the hallway, knocking each other down. - Exactly! It's mine! - shouted Sanka.
- No, mine! You are fucked, right?
- And you? Close your mouth, damn it! ..

- ... Girls! You have not seen here such a crumpled, torn book? Did not throw out by chance? - Katka came out of the other room, sniffing. - Oh! Hello...

- Hello, hello. So-ak ... Not this one? - the courier took the book, snatching it from under the nose at Marka.
- Just a minute, I do not see ... Well, yes, this one! Thank! Where did you find her?

The courier did not answer, putting the book halves to each other. The break line came together exactly like a puzzle. Sanka, Marka and Dusya were silent, mouths wide open.

- Ta-ak ... Winter storms cried, were early dreams ... - I read the courier with an expression and scored someone on a mobile phone: - Hello! Dmitry Mikhalych? Vasya Kochkin worried. We found her. What? I say they found her! Yes. The block matched. Blonde, a little curly, green eyes ... Yes. Yes. I give.

He handed the phone to Kateke, taken aback:
- Chelkin Dmitry Mikhalych. Talk to him.

Katka brought the cell phone to her ear, paused - and barely audibly whispered:
- Yes?..
- Hello! Adele? It's you? - I heard a cold voice.
- Yes...
- Adele! I ... I love you ...

Sanka and Marka stretched their necks, listening to the squeak of the speaker. Katka looked at them - and ran to her room, sniffing and smiling, like a drunk ...