"Perry, Anne - The One Thing More" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Anne)

"Leaving, Citizeness?" he asked, looking at her curiously. "Are they
finished already?"

"No," she answered, avoiding his eyes. "But no one will change it now,
so it makes no difference."

"Thank he began, then stopped.

She knew he had been about to say "Thank God', then remembered just in
time that there was no God, no power to resurrect the dead, no one to
comfort the tearing grief for a lost baby, to promise a heaven
somewhere. Religion was anti-revolutionary, and therefore a crime.
Nobody could even estimate how many priests had been murdered in the
massacres last September when the Marseillais had gone mad,
slaughtering the men, women and children in the prisons.

Of course religion had been contradictory, absurd, and the Church
greedy and corrupt. Celie knew that, but she still ached for its loss,
cried alone in the night from the emptiness without it.

"Thank you, Citizeness," the man finished selfconsciously.

She forced a smile at him, sickly and false, then hurried along the
pavement. The lights from shops and cafes glistened across the wet
stones. It was easy to see where she was going. It would be a lot
harder when she was at the other side of the river, into the Cordeliers
District.

She walked quickly. The night air was fiercely cold, and movement at
least kept her blood pumping. She stepped over a puddle and her foot
slipped on the wet cobbles. She was off the Rue St-Honore now and into
a narrower, darker street. She could smell the dampness and the sting
of ice in the air. At least there would be torches along the quay side
reflecting off the black surface of the water, and it would be easier
to see.

Of course she cared about the vote. She was a Frenchwoman; this was
her city and her country. But she had come specifically because
Bernave had sent her. He wanted to know the moment the verdict was
irrevocable. Tomorrow morning was not soon enough. She did not know
why it mattered so much to him. He had sent her on a lot of strange,
urgent errands lately, trusting her far more than most men trusted any
servant, let alone one they had known only a few months.

She was closer to the river now. Ahead of her the street opened out
and she could see the light of a rush torch swaying in the darkness,
trailing jagged streamers of fire. A man shouted to somebody out of
sight.