Сияние

Conversations at the Party

           UpbytherefreshmenttableDerwentwasnowholdingatinytriangularsandwichoverRoger’sheadandurginghim,tothegeneralmerrimentoftheonlookers,todoasomersault.Thedogmaskwasturnedupward.Thesilversidesofthedogcostumebellowsedinandout.Rogersuddenlyleaped,tuckinghisheadunder,andtriedtorollinmid-air.Hisleapwastoolowandtooexhausted;helandedawkwardlyonhisback,rappinghisheadsmartlyonthetiles.Ahollowgroandriftedoutofthedogmask.

           Derwentledtheapplause."Tryagain,doggy!Tryagain!"Theonlookerstookupthechant-tryagain,tryagain-andJackstaggeredofftheotherway,feelingvaguelyill.

           Healmostfelloverthedrinkscartthatwasbeingwheeledalongbyalowbrowedmaninawhitemessjacket.Hisfootrappedthelowerchromedshelfofthecart;thebottlesandsiphonsontopchatteredtogethermusically.

           "Sorry,"Jacksaidthickly.Hesuddenlyfeltclosedinandclaustrophobic;hewantedtogetout.HewantedtheOverlookbackthewayithadbeen…freeoftheseunwantedguests.Hisplacewasnothonored,asthetrueopeneroftheway;hewasonlyanotherofthetenthousandcheeringextras,adoggyrollingoverandsittinguponcommand.

           "Quiteallright,"themaninthewhitemessjacketsaid.Thepolite,clippedEnglishcomingfromthatthug’sfacewassurreal."Adrink?"

           "Martini.

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