Через час Григорий стоял в церкви рядом с похорошевшей в сиянии свечей Натальей, давил в руке восковой стержень свечки, скользя по густой стене шепчущегося народа невидящими глазами, повторял в уме одно назойливое слово: "Отгулялся... отгулялся".
Less than an hour later Grigory was standing at Natalya's side in the church, clutching a wax candle in his hand, his eyes wandering over the wall of whispering people round him, and repeating to himself four words that would not leave his head: "You've had your fling!"