Коллекционер
Chapter 1
Allcopiesofpicturesfromtheart-books,veryclever,Ithought,andverylike.
Suddenlyshesaid,"Couldn’twegoforawalk?Onparole?"
Butit’swet,Isaid.Andcold.ItwasthesecondweekinOctober.
"I’mgoingmadcoopedupinhere.Couldn’twejustwalkroundthegarden?"
Shecamerightupclosetome,athingsheusuallyavoidedandheldoutherwrists.She’dtakentowearingherhairlong,tiedupwithadarkblueribbonthatwasoneofthethingsshewrotedownformetobuy.Herhairwasalwaysbeautiful.Ineversawmorebeautifulhair.OftenIhadanitchtotouchit.Justtostrokeit,tofeelit.ItgavemeachancewhenIputthegagon.
Sowewentout.Itwasafunnynight,therewasamoonbehindthecloud,andthecloudwasmoving,butdownbelowtherewashardlyanywind.Whenwecameoutshespentafewmomentsjusttakingdeepbreaths.ThenItookherarmrespectfullyandledherupthepathbetweenthewallthatranuponesideandthelawn.Wepassedtheprivethedgeandwentintothevegetablegardenatthetopwiththefruittrees.AsIsaid,Ineverhadanynastydesiretotakeadvantageofthesituation,Iwasalwaysperfectlyrespectfultowardsher(untilshedidwhatshedid)butperhapsitwasthedarkness,uswalkingthereandfeelingherarmthroughhersleeve,Ireallywouldhavelikedtotakeherinmyarmsandkissher,asamatteroffactIwastrembling.IhadtosaysomethingorI’dhavelostmyhead.
