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“They will all be driven out soon,” said the old man, and Pustovalov noticed blue circles under his eyes and a sickly gleam in his eyes.

Indeed, he is the only one still lying. Trying to move smoothly, Pustovalov got up. Contrary to expectations, the head did not hurt at all. There were rag sneakers under the bed, but before putting them on, Pustovalov looked intently at the old man.

We talked yesterday, didn't we?

- Quite right.

Don't get me wrong, but...

“Here…” the old man deliberately interrupted him loudly and continued more quietly, “sometimes you have strange dreams. Perhaps more often than they dream of in ordinary life.

- Yeah. - Pustovalov said and immediately repeated again. - Yeah. So dreams?

The old man casually approached him.

- Well, maybe not quite dreams, but not quite what we call reality. In any case, it is better to avoid talking about such topics.

- Why?

They attract the unhealthy attention of superiors.

– Why is it bad?

- By itself, nothing. But it puts everyone
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