Ilya Simonov muttered something to him and pushed his way through the
heavy door.
Blagonravov looked up from his desk and rumbled affectionately, "Ilya!
It's good to see you. Have a drink! You've lost weight, Ilya!"
His top field man sank into the same chair he'd occupied nine months
before, and accepted the ice-cold vodka.
Blagonravov poured another drink for himself, then scowled at the other.
"Where have you been? When you first went off to Prague, I got reports
from you almost every day. These last few months I've hardly heard from
you." He rumbled his version of a chuckle. "If I didn't know you better,
I'd think there was a woman."