"Alfred Bester - Demolished Man, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bester Alfred)

"No, dear heart. Don't let it hurt you so. Not for love."
"I have enough love, God pity me, for both of us."
"One, God pity us, is not enough for both, Mary."
"You must marry an Esper before you're forty, Linc. The Guild insists
on that. You know it."
"I know it."
"Then let friendship answer. Marry me, Lincoln. Give me a year, that's
all. One little year to love you. I'll let you go. I won't cling. I won't
make you hate me. Darling, it's so little to ask... so little to give..."
The door-bell chimed. Powell looked at Mary helplessly. "Guests," he
murmured and directed Open in C-sharp at the TP lock-sensor. At the same
time she directed Close a fifth above. The harmonies meshed and the door
remained shut.
"Answer me first, Lincoln."
"I can't give you the answer you want, Mary."
The door-bell chimed again.
He took her shoulders firmly, held her close and looked deep into her
eyes. "You're a 2nd. Read me as deeply as you can. What's in my mind?
What's in my heart? What's my answer?"
He removed all blocks. The thundering plunging depths of his mind
cascaded over her in a warm, frightening torrent... terrifying, yet
magnetic and desirable; but... "Snow. Mint. Tulips. Taffeta," she said
wearily. "Go meet your guests, Mr. Powell. I'll make your canapes. It's all
I'm good for."
He kissed her once, then turned toward the living room and opened the
front door. Instantly, a fountain of brilliance sparkled into the house,
followed by the guests. The Esper party began.

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If is and
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Powell, we're ready 2nd.
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