Марсианские хроники

           Howmanydifferentnameshadbeenutteredinthelastfiveminutes?HowmanydifferentfacesshapedoverTom’sface,allwrong?

           Alldownthewaythepursuedandthepursuing,thedreamandthedreamers,thequarryandthehounds.Alldownthewaythesuddenrevealment,theflashoffamiliareyes,thecryofanold,oldname,theremembrancesofothertimes,thecrowdmultiplying.Everyoneleapingforwardas,likeanimagereflectedfromtenthousandmirrors,tenthousandeyes,therunningdreamcameandwent,adifferentfacetothoseahead,thosebehind,thoseyettobemet,thoseunseen.

           Andheretheyallarenow,attheboat,wantingthedreamfortheirown,justaswewanthimtobeTom,notLaviniaorWilliamorRogeroranyother,thoughtLaFarge.Butit’salldonenow.Thethinghasgonetoofar.

           "Comeup,allofyou!"Spauldingorderedthem.

           Tomsteppedupfromtheboat.Spauldingseizedhiswrist."You’recominghomewithme.Iknow."

           "Wait,"saidthepoliceman."He’smyprisoner.Name’sDexter;wantedformurder."

           "No!"awomansobbed."It’smyhusband!IguessIknowmyhusband!"

           Othervoicesobjected.Thecrowdmovedin.

           Mrs.LaFargeshieldedTom."Thisismyson;youhavenorighttoaccusehimofanything.We’regoinghomerightnow!"

           AsforTom,hewastremblingandshakingviolently.Helookedverysick.Thecrowdthickenedabouthim,puttingouttheirwildhands,seizinganddemanding.

           Tomscreamed.

           Beforetheireyeshechanged.