Девять рассказов

           Heplacedhishandsmoresecurelyonthesilloftheporthole,andloweredhischinontothebacksofhisfingers."Mother.Youknowthatmanwhositsrightnexttousinthediningroom?Nottheverythinone.Theotherone,atthesametable.Rightnexttowhereourwaiterputshistraydown."

           "Mm-hmm,"Mrs.McArdlesaid."Teddy.Darling.LetMothersleepjustfiveminutesmore,likeasweetboy."

           "Waitjustasecond.Thisisquiteinteresting,"Teddysaid,withoutraisinghischinfromitsrestingplaceandwithouttakinghiseyesofftheocean."Hewasinthegymalittlewhileago,whileSvenwasweighingme.Hecameupandstartedtalkingtome.HeheardthatlasttapeImade.NottheoneinApril.TheoneinMay.HewasatapartyinBostonjustbeforehewenttoEurope,andsomebodyatthepartyknewsomebodyintheLeidekkerexamininggroup—hedidn’tsaywho—andtheyborrowedthatlasttapeImadeandplayeditattheparty.Heseemsveryinterestedinit.He’safriendofProfessorBabcock’s.Apparentlyhe’sateacherhimself.HesaidhewasatTrinityCollegeinDublin,allsummer."

           "Oh?"saidMrs.McArdle."Atapartytheyplayedit?"ShelaygazingsleepilyatthebacksofTeddy’slegs.

           "Iguessso,"Teddysaid."HetoldSvenquiteabitaboutme,rightwhileIwasstandingthere.Itwasratherembarrassing."

           "Whyshoulditbeembarrassing?"

           Teddyhesitated."Isaid`rather’embarrassing.Iqualifiedit."

           "I’llqualifyyou,buddy,ifyoudon’tgetthehelloffthatbag,"Mr.McArdlesaid.Hehadjustlitafreshcigarette.