Девять рассказов

           "Whathappenstothem?"

           "Whathappenstowho?"

           "Thebananafish."

           "Oh,youmeanaftertheyeatsomanybananastheycan’tgetoutofthebananahole?"

           "Yes,"saidSybil.

           "Well,Ihatetotellyou,Sybil.Theydie."

           "Why?"askedSybil.

           "Well,theygetbananafever.It’saterribledisease."

           "Herecomesawave,"Sybilsaidnervously.

           "We’llignoreit.We’llsnubit,"saidtheyoungman,"Twosnobs."HetookSybil’sanklesinhishandsandpresseddownandforward.Thefloatnosedoverthetopofthewave.ThewatersoakedSybil’sblondhair,butherscreamwasfullofpleasure.

           Withherhand,whenthefloatwaslevelagain,shewipedawayaflat,wetbandofhairfromhereyes,andreported,"Ijustsawone."

           "Sawwhat,mylove?"

           "Abananafish."

           "MyGod,no!"saidtheyoungman."Didhehaveanybananasinhismouth?"

           "Yes,"saidSybil."Six."

           TheyoungmansuddenlypickeduponeofSybil’swetfeet,whichweredroopingovertheendofthefloat,andkissedthearch.

           "Hey!"saidtheownerofthefoot,turningaround.

           "Hey,yourself!We’regoinginnow.Youhadenough?"

           "No!"

           "Sorry,"hesaid,andpushedthefloattowardshoreuntilSybilgotoffit.Hecarriedittherestoftheway.

           "Goodbye,"saidSybil,andranwithoutregretinthedirectionofthehotel.

           Theyoungmanputonhisrobe,closedthelapelstight,andjammedhistowelintohispocket.Hepickeduptheslimywet,cumbersomefloatandputitunderhisarm.Heploddedalonethroughthesoft,hotsandtowardthehotel