"Damon Knight - Not with a Bang" - читать интересную книгу автора (Knight Damon)

purpose, the thin mouth that jerked in a slow, regular tic,
the hairy lobes of the ears below the tangle of black hair.
He oughtn't to let his hair grow so long, she thought. It
isn't quite decent. Well, she could change all that. If she
did marry him, she'd certainly make him change his ways.
It was no more than her duty.
He was talking now about a farm he'd seen outside
towna good big house and a barn. There was no stock,
he said, but they could get some later. And they'd plant
things, and have their own food to eat, not go to restau-
rants all the time.
She felt a touch on her hand, lying pale before her on
the table. Rolf's brown, stubby fingers, black-haired above
and below the knuckles, were touching hers. He had
stopped talking for a moment, but now he was speaking
igain, still more urgently. She drew her hand away.
He was saying, ". . . and you'll have the finest wedding
dress you ever saw, with a bouquet. Everything you want,
Louise, everything . . ."
A wedding dress! And flowers, even if there couldn't be
any minister! Well, why hadn't the fool said so before?
Rolf stopped halfway through a sentence, aware that
Louise had said quite clearly, "Yes, Rolf, I will marry you
if you wish."
Stunned, he wanted her to repeat it but dared not ask,
"What did you say?" for fear of getting some fantastic
answer, or none at all. He breathed deeply. He said, "To-
day, Louise?"
She said, "Well, today . . . I don't know quite . . . Of
course, if you think you can make all the arrangements in
time, but it does seem . . ."
Triumph surged through Smith's body. He had the ad-
vantage now, and he'd ride it. "Say you will, dear," he
urged her. "Say yes, and make me the happiest man . . ."
Even then, his tongue balked at the rest of it; but it didn't
matter. She nodded submissively. "Whatever you think
best, Rolf."
He rose, and she allowed him to kiss her pale, sapless
cheek. "We'll leave right away," he said. "If you'll excuse
me for just a minute, dear?"
He waited for her "Of course" and then left, making foot-
prints in the furred carpet of dust down toward the end
of the room. Just a few more hours he'd have to speak to
her like that, and then, in her eyes, she'd be committed to
him forever. Afterward, he could do with her as he liked
beat her when he pleased, submit her to any proof of his
scorn and revulsion, use her. Then it would not be too bad,
being the last man on earthnot bad at all. She might even
have a daughter. . . .
He found the washroom door and entered. He took a