The Old Majak

I once again visited the doctor of historical sciences, Professor Maria Sergeevna.
I always turn to it when urgent consultation is needed on a complex historical issue, and the Internet is absolutely unaware of the matter.
Maria Sergeevna - a little seventy-five-year-old old woman with an eternal "belo-morina" in her teeth, not taking the papyrus out of her mouth and managing not to burn, she kissed me in her cheek, took a cake and took her to the room.
Twenty minutes later, an old man, the husband of Maria Sergeevna, looked at us. He greeted and, shut his nose, said dissatisfied:

- Masha, you're fine, but why do you smoke a guest like that, look, he's already all green from your smoke.

The old lady got up from her chair, approached her husband, cleverly rolled the papyrus in her mouth, made a solemnly sad face and suddenly began to portray small swimming movements with her hands, like brass.
The old man looked very strictly, then unexpectedly laughed, kissed his wife in the forehead, said, "Masha, you are a dordana" and left the room.
We returned to our Persian kings, but Mary Sergeevna suddenly interrupted me and said:

"But from the outside I really looked like a dumb: my husband doesn't like my tobacco smoke, and I show him - swim, say, from here.
In fact, it is a very ancient story. One day, more than forty years ago, my husband and I went wild to Crimea on Zaporozhye. It was our wedding trip. The rocks, the sea, the tent, around no soul. The Beauty. What else to wish?
Unnoticed a month passed and the last evening came, in the morning at dawn you need to leave. The hour of night, the moon behind the clouds, the sea is light. While I was sleeping, my husband decided to take a little bath at last and say goodbye to the sea. He is now swimming like a fish, and then he was the captain of the university waterfield team. Swimming, therefore, my husband three hundred meters, lying on the water, sinking, feeling - it became cold, it would be time to return.
But then he realized that after diving, he did not really think - where is the horizon, and where is the shore? Where to swim? In the darkness, you can’t even see your own hands. I tried to swim with zigzags, suddenly the shore is spotted, and where there are no indicators, there were no zigzags, and it is not known what. I tried to scream, too, no matter, our tent behind the hill, and even the wind is whistling. Crying is not screaming, only wasting strength. And until dawn is still very far, it is unrealistic to last, you will freeze. In other words, it is a tube.
And here, when my poor husband had already begun to say goodbye to life, suddenly, far or far, he noticed a rescue light: and it was his beloved young wife Maria Sergeevna who woke up and rushed to the sea to smoke, away from the tent, so that the strict, non-smoking husband would not stumble.
And when he, half-lived, rolled off to the shore, floated, rested, then in joy he vowed to never again in his life, until the end of his days, will not blame me for smoking.
While it seems to hold...