Девять рассказов

           Theywantfourhundreddollars,justto-"

           "Mother,SeymourtoldDaddythathe’dpayforit.There’snoreasonfor-"

           "Well,we’llsee.Howdidhebehave-inthecarandall?"

           "Allright,"saidthegirl.

           "Didhekeepcallingyouthatawful-"

           "No.Hehassomethingnewnow."

           "What?"

           "Oh,what’sthedifference,Mother?"

           "Muriel,Iwanttoknow.Yourfather-"

           "Allright,allright.HecallsmeMissSpiritualTrampof1948,"thegirlsaid,andgiggled.

           "Itisn’tfunny,Muriel.Itisn’tfunnyatall.It’shorrible.It’ssad,actually.WhenIthinkhow-"

           "Mother,"thegirlinterrupted,"listentome.YourememberthatbookhesentmefromGermany?Youknow-thoseGermanpoems.What’dIdowithit?I’vebeenrackingmy-"

           "Youhaveit."

           "Areyousure?"saidthegirl.

           "Certainly.Thatis,Ihaveit.It’sinFreddy’sroom.YouleftithereandIdidn’thaveroomforitinthe-Why?Doeshewantit?"

           "No.Only,heaskedmeaboutit,whenweweredrivingdown.HewantedtoknowifI’dreadit."

           "ItwasinGerman!"

           "Yes,dear.Thatdoesn’tmakeanydifference,"saidthegirl,crossingherlegs."Hesaidthatthepoemshappentobewrittenbytheonlygreatpoetofthecentury.HesaidIshould’veboughtatranslationorsomething.Orlearnedthelanguage,ifyouplease."

           "Awful.Awful.It’ssad,actually,iswhatitis.Yourfathersaidlastnight-"

           "Justasecond,Mother,"thegirlsaid.Shewentovertothewindowseatforhercigarettes,litone,andreturnedtoherseatonthebed."Mother?"shesaid,exhalingsmoke.

           "Muriel.Now,listentome."