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The toads bellowed mournfully, and the twilight was enrobing the professor. Here it was… the night. Moscow… white lamps turning on somewhere outside… Lost and miserable, Pankrat stood fearfully at attention, arms at his sides…
The days were extremely hot. The thick, transparent heat was clearly visible as it shimmered over the fields. And the nights were magical, green, deceiving.
It took a revolution to fully realize Alexander Semyonovich’s potential.
