"Jack Dann - The Diamond Pit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dann Jack)

security?" For an instant, Phoebe seemed to be nonplussed, but then she
giggled and said, "Poppa worries about everything."
"What if they told their friends? Why -- "
"They're very rich," Phoebe said. "Not nearly as rich as we are, of
course, but they're worth quite a boodle, you can count on that. And Poppa
could just as easily make their shares in the stock market go up or down. He
can make it do whatever he wants. But you, Mr. Paul Rudolph Valentino
Piano-player, you're like a big dog with a bone, aren't you? Now, do you
_really_ want to talk about Poppa's friends, or -- "
She was quite persuasive; and I was indeed, in all respects, like a dog
with a bone. "What was all that business about not getting to keep me until
September?" I insisted. "What did your brother mean by that?"
She drew away from me and pulled the sheets up to her neck, as though
she were wearing them as a nightgown. "You got what you want, so thanks for
the buggy ride. And now you want to play twenty questions."
I tried to put my arm around her, but she turned away, taking most of
the sheets with her. It suddenly felt cold in the room.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." I said. "I -- "
"Then say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry."
She unraveled herself from the sheets and turned toward me. "I'm coming
out in London in September. I'll be presented at court, and I'll meet King
George. He's also a friend of Poppa's. Now does _that_ answer your question?"
Of course it didn't; but I would bide my time. I nodded.
"Then you may have your way with me again."
But that wasn't to be either because there was a sharp knock on the
door, followed by the booming voice of God.
****
"I'm not dressed, Poppa," Phoebe said sweetly, sitting up in the bed.
She seemed to be talking to the polychrome sculpture of Saint John that was
positioned beside the paneled door. "I'll meet you down in the library." She
looked at me and shrugged.
"You'll open this door right now, young lady!"
"No I _won't!_"
I started to get up. I could grab my clothes, perhaps hide; but Phoebe
said, "Don't be goofy. He'll go away in a minute. Absolutely-positively."
Then I heard Jefferson say something incomprehensible in a low voice --
most likely, he was speaking to one of his slaves.
I was right.
I should have known better than to listen to Phoebe. Now it was too
late.
A key turned in the lock, Robert pushed the great door open, and Master
Randolph Estes Jefferson, dressed impeccably in formal eveningwear -- white
tie and tails -- walked into the room. Phoebe was a blur rushing into the
adjoining bathroom; it was a wonder she didn't slip on the blue,
diamond-smooth floor. She slammed the door shut and left me to face the music
by myself. There was nothing I could do but pull the sheets around me. My
clothes were strewn across the floor.
Passion had certainly taken precedence over foresight.
"Do you see what happens, Robert, when you leave guests unattended?"