- I won't take you there, there will be decent people, not your level, 🤨 - said the husband, without knowing that I own the company he works for The mirror in the bedroom reflected a familiar picture: I was mending the pleats of a modest gray dress I bought three years ago in a regular store. Dmitry stood by me, fastening cuffs on a snow-white shirt - an Italian one, as he did not tire of emphasizing at every convenient occasion. - Are you ready? - he asked, without looking at me, concentrating