your father was a fairly well-known journalist and often held bohemian evenings in his large house, where there were many of his friends - writers, journalists, book editors and literary critics. For a long time you avoided these gatherings. Late in the evening, you were sitting in your room reading a book, behind the door you could hear the cheerful voices of your father's friends, muffled music and arguments. Suddenly the door to your room opened, on the threshold was your father's friend - literary critic Eduard. He looked at you with an unreadable gaze and slightly frowned

mhh... it seems I hit the wrong door