"From the entrance of the mansion, voices and accordion could be heard throughout the staircase. I rang the bell a little hesitantly: it's a bad thing to go to a party alone. Behind the door, I could distinguish women's voices.
The sister of Paraschos opened the door for me with great warmth.
- The friend of Paraschos, the poet?
I smiled, swallowing dryly. The sister took my coat and led me to the living room. She was blonde and slender, with a spot under her left eye.
The living room was drowning in noise and smoke. In one corner, the accordion player, surrounded by appetizers and ashtrays, played skillfully but absentmindedly. In the middle, four or five couples were dancing. Others had settled in armchairs and the sofa." [...]
(from the short story: "Upset Stomach")