Девять рассказов
De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period
Startingsalarywastwenty-eightdollarsaweek-whichwasnot,M.Yoshotosaidherealized,averylargesumoffunds,butsinceitincludedbedandnourishingfood,andsincehesensedinmethetruevocationaryspirit,hehopedIwouldnotfeelcastdownwithvigor.Heawaitedatelegramofformalacceptancefrommewitheagernessandmyarrivalwithaspiritofpleasantness,andremained,sincerely,mynewfriendandemployer,I.Yoshoto,formerlyoftheImperialAcademyofFineArts,Tokyo.
Mytelegramofformalacceptancewentoutwithinfiveminutes.Oddlyenough,inmyexcitement,orquitepossiblyfromafeelingofguiltbecauseIwasusingBobby’sphonetosendthewire,Ideliberatelysatonmyproseandkeptthemessagedowntotenwords.
Thateveningwhen,asusual,ImetBobbyfordinneratseveno’clockintheOvalRoom,Iwasannoyedtoseethathe’dbroughtaguestalong.Ihadn’tsaidorimpliedawordtohimaboutmyrecent,extracurriculardoings,andIwasdyingtomakethisfinalnews-break—toscoophimthoroughly—whenwewerealone.Theguestwasaveryattractiveyounglady,thenonlyafewmonthsdivorced,whomBobbyhadbeenseeingalotofandwhomI’dmetonseveraloccasions.Shewasanaltogethercharmingpersonwhoseeveryattempttobefriendlytome,togentlypersuademetotakeoffmyarmor,oratleastmyhelmet,Ichosetointerpretasanimpliedinvitationtojoinherinbedatmyearliestconvenience—thatis,assoonasBobby,whoclearlywastoooldforher,couldbegiventheslip.Iwashostileandlaconicthroughoutdinner.
