Коллекционер
Chapter 2
(Thisevening—asIknewIwouldandcould—Icoaxedandbulliedhim,andhewroteoutachequeforahundredpounds,whichhe’spromisedtosendofftomorrow.Iknowthisisright.AyearagoIwouldhavestucktothestrictmoralpoint.LikeMajorBarbara.Buttheessentialisthatwehavemoney.Notwherethemoneycomesfrom,orwhyitissent.)
October19th
Ihavebeenout.
Iwascopyingalltheafternoon(Piero)andIwasinthesortofmoodwherenormallyIhavetogoouttothecinemaortoacoffee-bar,anywhere.Butout.
Imadehimtakemebygivingmyselftohimlikeaslave.Bindme,Isaid,buttakeme.
Heboundandgaggedme,heldmyarm,andwewalkedroundthegarden.Quiteabigone.Itwasverydark,Icouldjustmakeoutthepathandsometrees.Anditisverylonely.Rightoutinthecountrysomewhere.
ThensuddenlyinthedarknessIknewsomethingwaswrongwithhim.Icouldn’tseehim,butIwassuddenlyfrightened,Ijustknewhewantedtokissmeorsomethingworse.Hetriedtosaysomethingaboutbeingveryhappy;hisvoiceverystrained.Choked.Andthen,thatIdidn’tthinkhehadanydeepfeelings,buthehad.It’ssoterriblenotbeingabletospeak.Mytongue’smydefencewithhim,normally.Mytongueandmylook.Therewasalittlesilence,butIknewhewaspentup.
AllthetimeIwasbreathinginbeautifuloutdoorair.Thatwasgood,sogoodIcan’tdescribeit.Soliving,sofullofplantsmellsandcountrysmellsandthethousandmysteriouswetsmellsofthenight.
