Уловка 22

The Eternal City

           Buttheoldwomanpassedbywithoutevenseeinghim,mumblinginterrible,tragicvexation,andsoonthefirstwomanhadvanishedintothedeepeninglayersofdarknessandtheoldwomanwasleftstandinghelplesslyinthecenterofthethoroughfare,dazed,uncertainwhichwaytoproceed,alone.Yossariantorehiseyesfromherandhurriedawayinshamebecausehehaddonenothingtoassisther.Hedartedfurtive,guiltyglancesbackashefledindefeat,afraidtheoldwomanmightnowstartfollowinghim,andhewelcomedtheconcealingshelterofthedrizzling,drifting,lightless,nearlyopaquegloom.Mobs…mobsofpolicemeneverythingbutEnglandwasinthehandsofmobs,mobs,mobs.Mobswithclubswereincontroleverywhere.

           ThesurfaceofthecollarandshouldersofYossarian’scoatwassoaked.Hissockswerewetandcold.Thelightonthenextlamppostwasout,too,theglassglobebroken.Buildingsandfeaturelessshapesflowedbyhimnoiselesslyasthoughbornepastimmutablyonthesurfaceofsomerankandtimelesstide.Atallmonkpassed,hisfaceburiedentirelyinsideacoarsegraycowl,eventheeyeshidden.Footstepssloshedtowardhimsteadilythroughapuddle,andhefeareditwouldbeanotherbarefootchild.Hebrushedbyagaunt,cadaverous,tristfulmaninablackraincoatwithastar-shapedscarinhischeekandaglossymutilateddepressionthesizeofanegginonetemple.

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