Уловка 22

The Cellar

           Thecolonelliftedtheboxofmatches,tookoneoutandhelditpoisedagainstthestrikingsurface,watchingwithgloweringeyesforthechaplain’snextsignofdefiance.Thechaplainwaspaleandalmosttoopetrifiedtomove.Thebrightglareofthespotlightmadehimturnawayfinally;thedrippingwaterwaslouderandalmostunbearablyirritating.Hewishedtheywouldtellhimwhattheywantedsothathewouldknowwhattoconfess.Hewaitedtenselyasthethirdofficer,atasignalfromthecolonel,ambledoverfromthewallandseatedhimselfonthetablejustafewinchesawayfromthechaplain.Hisfacewasexpressionless,hiseyespenetratingandcold.

           "Turnoffthelight,"hesaidoverhisshoulderinalow,calmvoice."It’sveryannoying."Thechaplaingavehimasmallsmileofgratitude."Thankyou,sir.Andthedriptoo,please."

           "Leavethedrip,"saidtheofficer."Thatdoesn’tbotherme."Hetuggedupthelegsofhistrousersabit,asthoughtopreservetheirnattycrease."Chaplain,"heaskedcasually,"ofwhatreligiouspersuasionareyou?"

           "I’manAnabaptist,sir."

           "That’saprettysuspiciousreligion,isn’tit?"

           "Suspicious?"inquiredthechaplaininakindofinnocentdaze."Why,sir?"

           "Well,Idon’tknowathingaboutit.You’llhavetoadmitthat,won’tyou?Doesn’tthatmakeitprettysuspicious?"

           "Idon’tknow,sir,"thechaplainanswereddiplomatically,withanuneasystammer.

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