Two years later.
— I look like an idiot, do not I? — Gambler critically examined himself in the mirror. The tie crushed his neck and he would have gladly disposed of it.
— No, you are an idiot, — Object told him, appearing in the doorway. — Faster! I do not want to be late for my own wedding!— How did you get married at all, — grumbled the young man and grabbed Reth by the shoulders. The woman laughed, but did not break out.
— Reth, maybe, well, all to hell? Stay at home?— Well, I do not. I have to see with my own eyes that she is finally being taken from under my care.
The woman corrected his tie and smiled at the young man:
— Come on, Gambler. Do not be nervous about Object … even more than usual.
Howondaland 