Ночь нежна

Chapter 8

           Therewassomescentonhishair,afaintauraofsoapfromhiswhiteclothes.Herlipsweretight,notsmilingandtheybothsimplylookedforamoment.

           "Doyoulikewhatyousee?"shemurmured.

           "Parlefrançais."

           "Verywell,"andsheaskedagaininFrench."Doyoulikewhatyousee?"

           Hepulledhercloser.

           "IlikewhateverIseeaboutyou."Hehesitated."IthoughtIknewyourfacebutitseemstherearesomethingsIdidn’tknowaboutit.Whendidyoubegintohavewhitecrook’seyes?"

           Shebrokeaway,shockedandindignant,andcriedinEnglish:

           "IsthatwhyyouwantedtotalkFrench?"Hervoicequietedasthebutlercamewithsherry."Soyoucouldbeoffensivemoreaccurately?"

           Sheparkedhersmallseatviolentlyonthecloth-of-silverchaircushion.

           "Ihavenomirrorhere,"shesaid,againinFrench,butdecisively,"butifmyeyeshavechangedit’sbecauseI’mwellagain.AndbeingwellperhapsI’vegonebacktomytrueselfIsupposemygrandfatherwasacrookandI’macrookbyheritage,sothereweare.Doesthatsatisfyyourlogicalmind?"

           Hescarcelyseemedtoknowwhatshewastalkingabout.

           "Where’sDickishelunchingwithus?"

           Seeingthathisremarkhadmeantcomparativelylittletohimshesuddenlylaughedawayitseffect.

           "Dick’sonatour,"shesaid."RosemaryHoytturnedup,andeitherthey’retogetherorsheupsethimsomuchthathewantstogoawayanddreamabouther."

           "Youknow,you’realittlecomplicatedafterall."

           "Ohno,"sheassuredhimhastily.

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