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The tailor, tiring me with his grazing and endless “young man”, forced me to undress to my underwear, drove me onto a cylindrical rotating stand and started measuring, dumbfounded at the moment of measuring the length of the leg, so that he was healthy! With difficulty suppressing the desire to kill the unlucky Achtung, I stoically endured until the end of the procedure, after which, with a sigh of relief, I rushed to get dressed. Aron Moiseevich called Natalya Ilyinichna, who turned out to be a very friendly lady a little younger than me. And so friendly that only my self-issued quest did not allow me to immediately invite Natalya Ilyinichna to meet the next dawn on my terrace. As if in passing, I pulled out her phone number and email address. Backlog, so to speak, for the future. If the date goes as planned, I'll call her today. About eight, I hope.

Together they sat down with a catalog in which there were many broad-shouldered men in jackets, tuxedos, frock coats, camisoles, tailco
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