"Robert A. Heinlein - Farnham's Freehold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

They cut for partners; Duke shook his head sadly. "Poor Barbara! Stuck
with Dad -- Did you warn her, Sis?"
"Keep your warnings to yourself," his father advised.
"She's entitled to know, Dad. Barbara, that juvenile delinquent across
from you is as optimistic in contract as he is pessimistic in-well, in other
matters. Watch out for psychic bids. If he has a Yarborough -- "
"Drop dead, Duke. Barbara, what system do you prefer? Italian?"
Her eyes widened. "The only Italian I know is vermouth, Mr. Farnham. I
play Goren. Nothing fancy, I just try to go by the book."
"'By the book,'" Hubert Farnham agreed.
"'By the book,'" his son echoed. "Which book? Dad likes to ring in the
Farmers' Almanac, especially when you're vulnerable, doubled and redoubled.
Then he'll point out how, if you had led diamonds -- "
"Counselor," his father interrupted, "will you deal those cards? Or
shall I stuff them down your throat?"
"I'll go quietly. Put a little blood in it? A cent a point?" Barbara
said hastily, "That's steep for me."
Duke answered, "You gals aren't in it. Just Dad and myself. That's how I
pay my office rent."
"Duke means," his father corrected, "that is how he gets deep into debt
to his old man. I was beating him out of his allowance when he was still in
junior high."
Barbara shut up and played cards. The stakes made her tense, even though
it was not her money. Her nervousness was increased by suspicion that her
partner was a match player.
Her nerves relaxed, though not her care, as it began to appear that Mr.
Farnham found her bidding satisfactory. But she welcomed the rest that came
from being dummy. She spent these vacations studying Hubert Farnham.
She decided that she liked him, for the way he handled his family and
for the way he played bridge-quietly, thoughtfully, exact in bidding, precise
and sometimes brilliant in play. She admired the way he squeezed out the last
trick, of a contract in which she had forced them too high, by having the
boldness to sluff an ace.
She knew that Karen expected her to pair off with Duke this weekend and
admitted that it seemed reasonable. Duke was as handsome as Karen was pretty-
and a catch...rising young lawyer, a year older than herself, with a fresh and
disarming wolfishness.
She wondered if he expected to make out with her? Did Karen expect it
and was she watching, secretly amused?
Well, it wasn't going to happen! She did not mind admitting that she was
a one-time loser but she resented the assumption that any divorcee was
available. Damn it, she hadn't been in bed with anybody since that dreadful
night when she had packed and left. Why did people think -- Duke was looking
at her; she locked eyes with him, blushed, and looked away, looked at his
father instead.
Mr. Farnham was fiftyish, she decided. And looked it. Hair thinning and
already gray, himself thin, almost gaunt, but with a slight potbelly, tired
eyes, lines around them, and deep lines down his cheeks. Not handsome -- With
sudden warmth she realized that if Duke Farnham had half the strong masculine
charm his father had, a panty girdle wouldn't be much protection. She