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The lady looked at them with a nod of approval.

Hope you don't mind... Here's the bar. Our regulars usually have dinner here. We've...” She rolled her eye, “... a “seminar” in the restaurant...” She pursed her lips in scorn. “No fish soup for those...”

It was a strange feeling, Illya thought. They were living the ordinary life of ordinary people... He was savoring both the delicious soup and a very rare sight: his friend in worn jeans and sweater, his hair unusually free from Brylcreem...

Napoleon Solo chuckled, “A penny for your thoughts?”

The Russian's slightly amused face suddenly froze.

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