Коллекционер
Chapter 2
Soby-himself.Soindifferent.
SoIdidgoround.OneSaturdaymorning.Hewassurprised.IhadtositinsilencefortwentyminuteswithhimandtheweirdIndianmusic.Hegotstraightbackontothedivanandlaywithhiseyesshut,asifIshouldn’thavecomeandIfeltIoughtnevertohavecome(especiallywithouttellingC),andIfeltaswellthatitreallywasabitmuch,apose.Icouldn’trelax.Attheendheaskedmeaboutmyself,curtly,asifitwasallratherabore.AndIstupidlytriedtoimpresshim.DotheonethingIshouldn’t.Showoff.Ikeptonthinking,hedidn’treallymeanmetocomeround.
Suddenlyhecutmeshortandtookmeroundtheroomandmademelookatthings.
Hisstudio.Themostbeautifulroom.Ialwaysfeelhappythere.Everythinginharmony.Everythingexpressingonlyhim(it’snotdeliberate,hehates"interiordecoration"andgimmicksandVogue).Butit’sallhim.Toinette,withhersillyfemaleHouseandGardenideasofausteregoodtaste,callingit"cluttered."Icouldhavebittenherheadoff.Thefeelingthatsomeonelivesallhislifeinit,worksinit,thinksinit,isit.
Andwethawedout.Istoppedtryingtobeclever.
Heshowedmehowhegetshis"haze"effect.Tonksinggouache.Withallhislittlehome-madetools.
Somefriendsofhiscamein,BarberandFrancesCruik-shank.Hesaid,thisisMirandaGreyIcan’tstandheraunt,allinonebreath,andtheylaughed,theywereoldfriends.Iwantedtoleave.
