My sister left her Institute two years ago and went to work in Norilsk. She's an engineer and works at a factory. She got a very comfortable flat last month in a new block of flats. It's on the third floor. I got a letter from my sister on the fifth of March with several pictures of the city and her flat.
This is a picture of my sister's flat. Look at it. There's a study and a bedroom in it, but there isn't a sitting-room or a dining-room. She has a living-room and she uses it as a sitting-room and a dining-room. There's also a kitchen and a bath-room in her flat, but you can't see them in this picture.
This is her living-room. The walls in this room are yellow. The ceiling's white and the floor's brown. You can see a square table in the middle of the room. There's a vase of flowers on it. There's an arm-chair and a standard-lamp [´stændəd…] — ‘торшер’ in the corner. There's also a piano in the room. My sister plays the piano very well. She loves music.
To the right of the piano you can see a door. It's open.
“Can you see a writing-table?” “Yes, I can.”
“Are there any books on it?” “Yes, there are some.”
“What else is there on the writing-table?” “There's a telephone and a radio set on it.”
“Is the television set on the table too?” “No, I can't see it.”
“Is there a sofa in this room?” “No, there isn't a sofa, but there's a bookcase in the corner.”
“Which room's this?” “It's the study.
To the left of the piano you can also see a door. It's open, too.”
“Are there many things in that room?” “No, there aren't.”
“Which room's that?” “It's the bedroom.”
“Is my sister's flat comfortable?”
“How many rooms are there in her flat?