“Yes? But there will be a grand drinking bout,” said Lubov, looking at him askance.
“I can drink at my own expense if I choose to do so.”
“I know,” said Lubov, nodding her head expressively.
Taras toyed with his teaspoon, turning it between his fingers and looking at them askance.
“And where’s my godfather?” asked Foma.
“He went to the bank. There’s a meeting of the board of directors today. Election of officers is to take place.
“They’ll elect him again.”
“Of course.”
And again the conversation broke off. Foma began to watch the brother and the sister. Having dropped the spoon, Taras slowly drank his tea in big sips, and silently moving the glass over to his sister, smiled to her. She, too, smiled joyously and happily, seized the glass and began to rinse it assiduously. Then her face assumed a strained expression; she seemed to prepare herself for something and asked her brother in a low voice, almost reverently:
“Shall we return to the beginning of our conversation?”