The friends smile softly, turn away. Grandfather also understands what it's about.

Methodius (thoughtfully, with a philosophical bias). No, actually, it's not that, (Grandfather thinks). But… to some extent… However ....

Methodius abruptly changes the subject.

Methodius (positively, cheerfully). So, well! It would not be a sin to bite for acquaintance, so that's the problem… I don't drink. What are we going to do, chickens?

Nyura (with a dig). Who has a bowler hat whistling here? He called himself a gruzd, and think for yourself…, cockerel!

Friends giggle.

Methodius (skeptically, understanding sarcasm). A… ha…

Agnes (Methodius). And, by the way, it's Nyura's birthday today!

Methodius (admiringly). What are you? Yeshki – matryoshka dolls, and you were silent? Well, that's it!

Methodius gets up from his seat.

Methodius (cheerfully, resolutely). Sit here, don't go anywhere, I'm coming soon!

Methodius leaves, leaving his friends in mixed feelings.

Vedana (with interest). Where is he going?

Agnes (skeptically, glancing at her friends, then after the departed Methodius). It is known where.

Nyura (with interest, to Agnes). And what is known there? Where do you think this pompous turkey has gone?

Agnes (skeptically, to her friends). Somewhere… Far away! Here after all… it smells like gifts. Well, or at least some congratulations, at least. And men are men. What to take from them? Though young, though worn… All in one duda. Just to get rid of responsibility, but from any difficulties.

Vedana (with interest, to Agnes). Do you seriously think that he left, just not to congratulate and not to give anything?

Agnes (convincingly). No, in fact, he, of course, left just to buy something for our Nyurochka's birthday and congratulate her. Well… at least that's how he'll explain it later. But unforeseen circumstances will arise, as a result of which you will have to go somewhere urgently, run, save… In general, they all have the same song. So in fact – yes! Running away to get away from this conversation, and from the others, too. Men don't like to talk much, for the most part. How, what they learned, they exchanged short phrases and ran on. Which, in fact, happened.

Nyura (doubtful). I don't know. I, in fact, did not ask him for anything, and I did not particularly count on congratulations, even verbal ones. For me, they are what they are, what they are not. But anyway. Gone, and thank God. He's kind of muddy, girls. See how it doesn't work out. You have to keep your ears open with this!

Agnes (Nyure). And what can come out of it?

Nyura ambiguously shrugs her shoulders. Evades the answer.

Vedana (abruptly changes the subject). Okay, stop! (He turns to Agnes, busily). So you're 100% sure right now that the old bastard won't come back?

Agnes (Vedane). Don't I know men! Sure. Look for fistulas. Screwed up and with the end.

Vedana (to Agnes). And I, for some reason, am sure that it is not the end!

Agnes (Vedane). And I'm sure that with the end!

Nyura (smoothing out the corners to her friends). Don't argue about the end… (Corrects himself). Uh.... Because of this pretzel. Well, he left and left. That's it! Forgot!

Vedana (Nyure). I remember.

Agnes (Nyure). Me too.

Vedana (to Agnes, fervently). Let's bet!

Agnes (to Vedane, fervently). Let's! What are we going to argue about?

Vedana, without thinking twice, whispers her proposal in her friend's ear. Agnes, having listened, looks at Vedana in surprise.

Agnes (to Vedane, amazed). What? Childhood started playing in one place? Couldn't you think of anything smarter?

Vedana (to Agnes, fervently). And I wanted something! What? Are you afraid of losing?

Agnes (Vedane, sure). Not at all. I'm afraid I won't be able to realize the winnings. I argued about such things for the last time fifty years ago, or even more.

Nyura (with interest, to her friends). Girls, what are you talking about? What have you decided, chuchundra?

Agnes and Vedana turn sly glances at Nyura. They keep quiet. Then they meet each other's eyes, shake hands with each other, assuring the dispute with this gesture and answer Nyura in chorus, again transferring playful glances to her.

Agnes, Vedana (Nyure). You'll find out!

Nyura (with displeasure). Oh, naaado same. Too much for me, the secret of the century. (Changes the subject and mood to a more positive one). Okay. Let's sing something?

Vedana (to Nyura, looking around cautiously). Is it here?

Nyura (uncertainly). And what?

Agnes (to Nyure, cautiously). Really, Nyur? Tea is not at the table. People are walking around here. Not everyone will appreciate our signature trio. Let's sit down in the evening somehow, we'll stretch the ligaments (gestures acceptance of alcohol, clicks his finger on the throat), it's not a sin to sing there.

Nyura (calmly). Yes, I am something, really. So… for some reason, I wanted to abruptly. I don't understand why all of a sudden.

…

Friends change their position. The light is getting a little weaker. We beat the passage of time. Three hours pass. Friends are still on the bench. Already tired, they are going to go home.

Agnes (to Vedane, with a sly face). Midnight is approaching, and Herman is still not there?

Vedana (puzzled). Yeees… Looks like your friend took it. The winnings are rightfully on your side!

An intriguing incendiary musical theme sounds!

Friends together turn their heads to one side, open their mouths in admiration and surprise.

An intriguing pause.

Methodius enters, takes a couple of steps, stops. Lets you evaluate yourself. Dressed to the nines. With a charming smile, he looks at three friends, his eyes are burning. Holding a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

The musical accompaniment subsides, ends.

Agnes (surprised). Baaa..

Methodius (cheerfully, to everyone). I'm sorry, dear ones, that I made myself wait so long. Unforeseen circumstances have arisen!

Agnes (edifying, Vedane). Here!

Methodius (cheerfully, to everyone). But I tried to solve all the questions as quickly as possible, and here I am! I raced at full speed, fearing that you would not wait.

Vedana (to Methodius joyfully, glancing victoriously at Agnes in snatches). How could we not wait for such a man, well, really. Here we are all here. We are waiting, missing, hoping for a meeting.

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