格里耶娃已经不知道自己的鞋子到哪里去了,反正现在也用不着鞋子,她几乎被挤得双脚离了地,但手里还紧紧抱着她的那只长方形的皮箱,里面有一支网球拍和必要的衣物,周围是那些黑头发的男子疯狂地向前推挤着她,每个人都眼睛通红,声嘶力竭,嘴里散发着发酵面包渣的臭味:“让我过去,混蛋,赶紧往前啊。” Gryeva already do not know where his shoes go, anyway, now no need for shoes, she was almost squeezed out of her feet, but her hand still tightly holding her rectangular luggage, Inside there was a tennis racket and the necessary clothing around the dark-haired man pushing her frantically forward. Everyone was flushed, hoarse, his mouth smelling of the fermented breadcrumbs: “Let me go Bastard, hurry up. ”