Коллекционер

           Itwasanotherlargecellar,fourbigstepsdownfromthefirstone,butthistimewithalowerroofandabitarched,liketheroomsyouseeunderneathchurchessometimes.Thestepscamedowndiagonallyinonecornersotheroomranaway,sotospeak.

           Justthethingfororgies,hesaid.

           Whatwasitfor?Iasked,ignoringhissillyfacetiousness.

           Hesaidtheythoughtitmightbebecausethecottagewassoonitsown.They’dhavetostorealotoffood.OritmighthavebeenasecretRomanCatholicchapel.Oneoftheelectricianslatersaiditwasasmugglers’placewhentheyusedtobegoingtoLondonfromNewhaven.

           Well,wewentbackupstairsandout.Whenhelockedthedoorandputthekeybackunderaflowerpot,itwaslikedowntheredidn’texist.Itwastwoworlds.It’salwaysbeenlikethat.SomedaysI’vewokenupandit’sallbeenlikeadream,tillIwentdownagain.

           Helookedathiswatch.

           I’minterested,Isaid.Veryinterested.IwassonervoushelookedatmesurprisedandIsaid,IthinkI’llhaveit.Justlikethat.Ireallysurprisedmyself.BecausebeforeIalwayswantedsomethinguptodate,whattheycallcontemporary.Notanoldplacestuckaway.

           Hestoodtherelookingallgormless,surprisedthatIwassointerested,surprisedIhadmoney,Isuppose,likemostofthem.

           HewentawaybacktoLewesthen.Hehadtofetchsomeoneelseinterested,soIsaidIwouldstayinthegardenandthinkthingsoverbeforeafinaldecision.