two great writers shooting the breeze

The ghost of Tolstoy wandered into the Costa cafe.
"James Tomovitch," he cried when he saw me, "mind if I sit down?"
He pulled up a pew without waiting for an answer.
"So," he boomed, "what have you learned about Russia?"
I thought for a minute.
"Russia always seemed to me to be living through hell on earth," I ventured. "It was like Satan ran the place for sixty years during communism. It was Satan's kingdom. All those murders. All the tortures. And the communists in Russia weren't content with murdering and torturing Russians. They pushed communism into China and gave the world Chairman Mao who murdered and tortured people on an even greater scale. And together with Mao they then pushed communism into Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. They killed a quarter of the population in Cambodia. Did you know that? Even that wasn't enough. Communists in Russia sponsored communist and Islamist dictatorships all over Africa and turned Africa into a charnel house of death, which it still is today. And still that wasn't enough. Russian communists pushed communism into Eastern Europe where the murders and the tortures were maybe not quite so numerous as in China and Africa but still pretty awful for the thousands of people at any given time who happened to be getting murdered and tortured. Under the communists, it was like Russia was drenched in blood. Her own and other peoples. But I could never understand why God would abandon Russia. And then I saw Evgenia. And I said ah. The mark of the divine. God never abandoned the Russians. He left them the most beautiful girls on earth as a sign of his presence."
There was a brief silence.
"You're right," said Tolstoy. "At least about the last bit."
"I'm always right Alexander Sergeyevich," I told him.
"So are you going to ask her out?" he wondered.
"No I am not," I answered.
"Do you mind if I ask her out?" ventured Tolstoy.
"You're a ghost," I reminded him.
"Hey Heelers," grinned Tolstoy, "we owe it to ourselves to live a little."