The ashen morn made its way in through the window of the stairway.
It was that quiet hour when the morning is fresh and young.
It was at this hour that the widow heard footsteps in the corridor.
The widow jumped up and pressed against the glass.
She caught a glimpse of a blue waistcoat at the end of the corridor.
The crimson boots were dusty with plaster.
The flighty son of a Turkish citizen approached the glass door, brushing a speck of dust from the sleeve of his jacket.
"Bunny!" called the widow. "Bun-ny!"
She breathed on the glass with unspeakable tenderness.
The glass misted over and made rainbow circles.
Beyond the mistiness and rainbows glimmered blue and raspberry-coloured spectres.
Ostap did not hear the widow's cooing.
He scratched his back and turned his head anxiously.
Another second and he would have been around the corner.
With a groan of "Comrade Bender", the poor wife began drumming on the window.
The smooth operator turned around.
"Oh," he said, seeing he was separated from the widow by a glass door, "are you here, too?"
"Yes, here, here," uttered the widow joyfully.
"Kiss me, honey," the technical adviser invited. "We haven't seen each other for such a long time!"
The widow was in a frenzy.
She hopped up and down behind the door like a finch in a cage.
The petticoat which had been silent for the night began to rustle loudly.
Ostap spread his arms.
"Why don't you come to me, my little hen?
Your Pacific rooster is so tired after the meeting of the Junior Council of Ministers."
The widow had no imagination.
"Bunny," she called for the fifth time, "open the door, Comrade Bender."
"Hush, girl!
Modesty becomes a woman.
What's all the jumping about for?"
The widow was in agony.
"Why are you torturing yourself?" asked Ostap. "Who's preventing you from living? "
The widow burst into tears.
"Wipe your eyes, Citizeness.
Every one of your tears is a molecule in the cosmos."
"But I've been waiting and waiting. I closed down the shop.
I've come for you, Comrade Bender."
"And how does it feel on the stairs?
Not draughty, I hope?"
The widow slowly began to seethe like a huge monastery samovar. ,
"Traitor!" she spat out with a shudder.
Ostap had a little time left.
He clicked his fingers and, swaying rhythmically, crooned:
"We all go through times When the devil's beside us, When a young woman's charms Arouse passion inside us."
"Drop dead!" advised the widow at the end of the dance. "You stole my bracelet, a present from my husband.
And why did you take the chair? "
"Now you're getting personal," Ostap observed coldly.
"You stole, you stole!" repeated the widow.
"Listen, girl. Just remember for future reference that Ostap Bender never stole anything in his life."
"Then who took the tea-strainer?"