"Gordon R. Dickson - MX Knows Best" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

"Well..." He hesitated, but her perception was quick.
"Oh, I see," she said. "You're one of our sudden converts and I shouldn't ask. Would you like a
drinkтАФeven if it's just to balance politely in your hand?"
He smiled, and found his old liking for her coming back.
"Thanks," he said, and trailed her across the room to a dispenser cabinet.
"What'll it be, now?" She opened the cabinet. A concealed rainbow of light played across the interior
and a miniature, three-dimensional representation of his host's liquor supply revolved slowly for his
inspection. Allen thought of the week just past with something like a shudder.
"Beer," he said, "light and cold."
"And in a stein," she said. She pressed appropriate buttons and handed it to him, taking a small glass
of sherry for herself.
"Who's Frank?" he asked.
She led the way back to some easy chairs across the room. "Frank Campanelli. He's our technical
expert."
"Technical expert?"
She smiled at him. "Jasper'll tell you. And how's business in court these days?"
"You've got me confused with Galt. I just write contractsтАФa sort of glorified clerk." He gazed at her
curiously. "You know, I never did know what you do."
"I write poetry. Don't laugh," she added gravely, "I make a great deal of money at it. I do graded
stories in poetic imagery for the school-age child. How are contracts, then?"
"Fine."
"Then it's woman trouble."
He started. "How do you know?"
"Why, I was born an expert, being female. And received the normal twenty years or so of
postgraduate instruction customary for girls." She bit her lip. "Including the instincts and habit of poking
my nose into what's probably none of my business. I'm sorry."
"It's nothing." He shrugged. "We punched for a decision on getting married. MX said no ...and she
took it to heart."
Leta did not answer for a second. She seemed to be thinking,
"You know," she said, suddenly. "If I were Frank, or JasperтАФor Galt, even, I wouldn't trust you."
He was both shocked and wounded. He stared at her in astonishment.
"Why not?" he challenged.
"You might change back, just as suddenly as you changed to." But she looked at him almost
appealingly as she said it, as if begging him not to blame her for a judgement she couldn't help.
"What do you mean, suddenly?" he said. "Why, I've felt this way for years."
"But you've never done anything about it until now."
"What's that got to do with it?"
She made a defensive, apologetic gesture with one hand, as if warding off a blow.
"Well, perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps you're just not a leader."
"And you, I see," he said harshly, "are one of those women with a high IQ and nothing else, who
justify themselves by taking jabs at every man they come in contact with."
The sudden storm of their antagonism blew itself out into silence. She had turned her head away, and
it was not until he got up and went around to face her that he saw there were tears on her cheeks.
"You started it," he said.
"Yes," she said. "It's my fault."
He would have taken the one step that would have brought him to her, but at that moment Galt stuck
his head through the light wall.
"Come on," he ordered, briefly; and disappeared again. Allen turned back to Leta and saw her using
a handkerchief to repair damages.
 "Go ahead," she said. "I'll be along in a minute."