Is That Vodka?" Margarita Asked Weakly. The

To Speak The Truth Is Easy And Pleasant.

Margarita Was Never Short Of Money. She Could Buy Whatever She Liked. Her Husband Had Plenty Of Interesting Friends. Margarita Never Had To Cook. Margarita Knew Nothing Of The Horrors Of Living In A Shared Flat. In Short... Was She Happy? Not For A Moment.

The Tongue Can Conceal The Truth, But The Eyes Never! You're Asked An Unexpected Question, You Don't Even Flinch, It Takes Just A Second To Get Yourself Under Control, You Know Just What You Have To Say To Hide The Truth, And You Speak Very Convincingly, And Nothing In Your Face Twitches To Give You Away. But The Truth, Alas, Has Been Disturbed By The Question, And It Rises Up From The Depths Of Your Soul To Flicker In Your Eyes And All Is Lost.

But Worse Things Were About To Be Found In The Bedroom: On The Jeweller’s Wife’s Ottoman, In A Casual Pose, Sprawled A Third Party- Namely, A Black Cat Of Uncanny Size, With A Glass Of Vodka In One Paw And A Fork, On Which He Had Managed To Spear A Pickled Mushroom, In The Other. , The Master And Magarita

Most Bad," The Host Concluded. "if You Ask Me, Something Sinister Lurks In Men Who Avoid Wine, Games, The Company Of Lovely Women, And Dinnertime Conversation. Such People Are Either Gravely Ill Or Secretly Detest Everyone Around Them.