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I stared at her for a minute or so, like some fool who saw fire for the first time, and then, again for the first time in my life, I took two steps back. I’d never been in a state of panic in front of a woman before. On the contrary-they themselves recognized my advantage, my status and my inner strength, and never tried to look at me the way Margarita Sheremetyeva did.

As if my fate depended on her decision.

As if she were the last and only person on earth who could help me.

As if she were the Silver Dragon of Shad’Far, by the grace of the moon, endowed with so many talents.

– I beg your pardon,” I said in my own distraught voice, while at the same time trying not to think how stupid I looked.

– Oh, that’s so noble! – Marguerite comes in and even claps her hands a couple of times. – First, in the middle of the night to show up at someone else’s house with some wretched broom, to play with muscles in front of a weak woman, to inflate your ego, and then, suddenly, to remember the rules of decency. I have a sad experience with moonshiners, and until recently I thought my sister’s husband was the most insolent and impudent of all your brethren. But you, Mr. Twigson, have managed to push him off his pedestal.