Человек в высоком замке

           Shemadeherselfcomfortableinthemotelroom,turningontheradio,gettingcoffeefromthemotellunchcounter;sheproppedherselfupontheneatlymadebedwiththenewunreadcleancopyofTheGrasshopperwhichshehadboughtatthehotelbookshopinDenver.

           Atsix-fifteenintheeveningshefinishedthebook.IwonderifJoegottotheendofit?shewondered.There’ssomuchmoreinitthanheunderstood.WhatisitAbendsenwantedtosay?Nothingabouthismake-believeworld.AmItheonlyonewhoknows?I’llbetIam;nobodyelsereallyunderstandsGrasshopperbutme—theyjustimaginetheydo.

           Stillalittleshaky,sheputitawayinhersuitcaseandthenputonhercoatandleftthemotelroomtosearchforaplacetoeatdinner.TheairsmelledgoodandthesignsandlightsofCheyenneseemedparticularlyexciting.Infrontofabartwopretty,black-eyedIndianprostitutesquarreling—sheslowedtowatch.Manycars,shinyones,coastedupanddownthestreets;theentirespectaclehadanauraofbrightnessandexpectancy,oflookingaheadtosomehappyandimportantevent,ratherthanback…back,shethought,tothestaleandthedreary,theused-upandthrown-away.

           AtanexpensiveFrenchrestaurant—whereamaninawhitecoatparkedcustomers’cars,andeachtablehadacandleburninginahugewinegoblet,andthebutterwasservednotinsquaresbutwhippedintoroundpalemarbles—sheateadinnerwhichsheenjoyed,andthen,withplentyoftimetospare,strolledbacktowardhermotel.