"Jack Dann - Going Under (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dann Jack)

"Hello," Stephen said, feeling slightly awkward. But colored ribbons and confetti snakes
were coiling through the air, and anything seemed possible.
Esme glanced at him. "Hello, you," she said.
"Pardon?" Stephen asked.
"I said, `Hello, you.' That's an expression that was in vogue when this boat first sailed,
if you'd like to know. It means `Hello, I think you're interesting and would consider sleeping
with you if I were so inclined.' "
"You must call it a ship," Stephen said.
She laughed and for an instant looked at him intently, as if in that second she could see
everything about him-that he was taking this voyage because he was bored with his life, that
nothing had ever really happened to him. He felt his face become hot. "Okay, 'ship,' does that
make you feel better?" she asked. "Anyway, I want to pretend that I'm living in the past. I don't
ever want to return to the present, do you?"



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file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Jack%20Dann%20-%20Going%20Under.txt

"Well, 1 . . .' _
"Yes, I suppose you do, want to return, that is."
"What makes you think that?"
"Look how you're dressed. You shouldn't be wearing modern clothes on this ship. You'll
have to change later, you know." She was perfectly dressed in a powder-blue walking suit with
matching jacket, a pleated, velvet-trimmed front blouse, and an ostrich feather hat. She looked as
if she had stepped out of another century, and just now Stephen could believe she had.
"What's your name?" Stephen asked.
"Esme," she answered. Then she turned the box that she was resting on the rail and opened
the side facing the dock. "You see," she said to the box, "we really are here."

"What did you say?" Stephen asked.
"I was just talking to Poppa," she said, closing and latching the box.
" W ho?"
"I'll show you later, if you like," she promised. Then bells began to ring and the ship's
whistles cut the air. There was a cheer from the dock and on board, and the ship moved slowly out
to sea. To Stephen it seemed that the land, not the ship, was moving. The whole of England was
just floating peacefully away, while the string band on the ship's bridge played Oscar Strauss's
The Chocolate Soldier.
They watched until the land had dwindled to a thin line on the horizon, then Esme reached
naturally for Stephen's hand, squeezed it for a moment, then hurried away. Before Stephen could
speak, she had disappeared into the crowd, and he stood looking after her long after she had gone.

Stephen found her again in the Cafe Parisien, sitting in a large wicker chair beside an ornately
trellised wall.
"Well, hello, you," Esme said, smiling. She was the very model of a smart, stylish young
lady.
"Does that mean you're still interested?" Stephen asked, standing before her. Her smile
was infectious, and Stephen felt himself losing his poise, as he couldn't stop grinning.
"But mais oui," she said. Then she relaxed in her chair, slumped down as if she could
instantly revert to being a child-in fact, the dew was still on her-and she looked around the room