Профиль участника: Valentina

Vasiliy Tsutsykov was found a emaciated man thirty five years old with narrow face in golden glasses. He nervously squeezed a crimson leather folder in the hands, amazignly askewing at the rumpled scraps of paper scattered on an office. The long heir was reached back at a scrunchies. "Bugger, — disappointedly had thought Vadim Petrovich, — however, which to me the difference?" He noddled at a vacant armchair. Tsutsykov immediately unhooked the folder and got out a piece of paper full of notes by a pen.