Прощай, оружие!

Chapter 3

           Idriedmyhandsandtookoutmypocket-bookfromtheinsideofmytunichangingonthewall.Rinalditookthenote,foldeditwithoutrisingfromthebedandsliditinhisbreechespocket.Hesmiled,"ImustmakeonMissBarkleytheimpressionofamanofsufficientwealth.Youaremygreatandgoodfriendandfinancialprotector."

           "Gotohell,"Isaid.

           ThatnightatthemessIsatnexttothepriestandhewasdisappointedandsuddenlyhurtthatIhadnotgonetotheAbruzzi.HehadwrittentohisfatherthatIwascomingandtheyhadmadepreparations.ImyselffeltasbadlyashedidandcouldnotunderstandwhyIhadnotgone.ItwaswhatIhadwantedtodoandItriedtoexplainhowonethinghadledtoanotherandfinallyhesawitandunderstoodthatIhadreallywantedtogoanditwasalmostallright.IhaddrunkmuchwineandafterwardcoffeeandStregaandIexplained,winefully,howwedidnotdothethingswewantedtodo;weneverdidsuchthings.

           Wetwoweretalkingwhiletheothersargued.IhadwantedtogotoAbruzzi.Ihadgonetonoplacewheretheroadswerefrozenandhardasiron,whereitwasclearcoldanddryandthesnowwasdryandpowderyandhare-tracksinthesnowandthepeasantstookofftheirhatsandcalledyouLordandtherewasgoodhunting.Ihadgonetonosuchplacebuttothesmokeofcafésandnightswhentheroomwhirledandyouneededtolookatthewalltomakeitstop,nightsinbed,drunk,whenyouknewthatthatwasalltherewas,andthestrangeexcitementofwakingandnotknowingwhoitwaswithyou,andtheworldallunrealinthedarkandsoexcitingthatyoumustresumeagainunknowingandnotcaringinthenight,surethatthiswasallandallandallandnotcaring.

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