"Colin Greenland - A Passion For Lord Pierrot (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenland Colin)

In the land of Anise, on the planet of Triax, it is the hour after
dinner.
Lord Pierrot sits alone in his apartment, playing the accordion. He
reclines on a couch and plays a slow, sad tango. A melancholy fit is
upon
him, for he remembers the past, the years before he came into his
inheritance.
He is thinking of other nights, nights of gaiety when he sauntered with
his comrades through yellow gardens on the moon, the same moon that now
shines on the lake, turning it the colour of fine honey. On those
nights
he had not a care to his name, and the songs he sang were merry. He was
young then, Lord Pierrot, and now he is old, as they reckon such things
on
the planet of Triax.
Lord Pierrot's whole apartment is most sumptuously appointed. The
furnishings are made of velvet, the floor of glossy yellow hardwood
imported all the way from Peru, on Earth. Splendid specimens of the
local
wildlife decorate the walls, represented by their severed heads. But
tonight Lord Pierrot is not comforted by luxuries, nor by the trophies
of
his skill in the slaughter. Tonight there will be no comfort for him
but
in the arms of his paramour, Daphne Dolores.
He will go to her now, this minute. He rises and tucks the accordion
under
his arm, to entertain her, later, with some music. With this thought he
steps from his chamber into the shaft and goes down, out of the front
door
into the stifling night.
Lord Pierrot crosses the lake by means of his little rowing boat. The
moon
is bright. Tomorrow night, he thinks, it will be full. Across the water
he
sees a light in the window of the lodge that stands upon the other
shore.
Moon or no moon, that is his beacon, his guiding star.
He moors below the lodge, in the lee of a black rock that shelves out
like
a parapet over the water. The rock was brought back from the Horsehead
Nebula by Lord Pierrot's father, at a time when society admired such
actions. Lord Pierrot climbs upon it now and stands gazing at the
moonlit
lodge. A languid breeze toys with his pale hair.
In the silence he hears the door of the lodge open, and then he sees
her,
sees Daphne Dolores, running to greet him.
'Daphne Dolores!' cries Lord Pierrot, and he springs from the rock. At
once she is in his arms. He holds her very tightly, though not