Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           "Whoee,Candygirl,whatareweinnow?Isthisreal?Areweinanasylum?Man!"ShewasbiggerthanCandy,andmaybefiveyearsolder,andhadtriedtolockherbay-coloredhairinastylishbunatthebackofherhead,butitkeptstringingdownaroundherbroadmilk-fedcheekbones,andshelookedlikeacowgirltryingtopassherselfoffasasocietylady.Hershouldersandbreastsandhipsweretoowideandhergrintoobigandopenforhertoeverbecalledbeautiful,butshewasprettyandshewashealthyandshehadonelongfingercrookedintheringofagallonofredwine,anditswungathersidelikeapurse.

           "How,Candy,how,how,howdothesewildthingshappentous?"Sheturnedaroundoncemoreandstopped,withherbarefeetspread,giggling.

           "Thesethingsdon’thappen,"Hardingsaidtothegirlsolemnly."Thesethingsarefantasiesyoulieawakeatnightdreamingupandthenareafraidtotellyouranalyst.You’renotreallyhere.Thatwineisn’treal;noneofthisexists.Now,let’sgoonfromthere."

           "Hello,Billy,"Candysaid.

           "Lookatthatstuff,"Turklesaid.

           Candystraight-armedoneofthebottlesawkwardlytowardBilly."Ibroughtyouapresent."

           "ThesethingsareThorneSmithiandaydreams!"Hardingsaid.

           "Boy!"thegirlnamedSandysaid."Whathavewegotourselvesinto?"

           "Shhhh,"Scanlonsaidandscowledaroundhim."You’llwakeupthoseotherbastards,talkingsoloud."

           "What’sthematter,stingy?"Sandygiggled,startingtoturninhercircleagain.