"Reed, Robert - TreasureBuried" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reed Robert)

"No."

"Well, thanks again then."

Yet when he examined his surroundings -- the living room and dining room and the
faraway front door -- he saw nothing that reminded him of anyone except Mekal.
Things were clean, but the furnishings and wall hangings exuded maleness, a
faintly Western atmosphere, everything possessing utility and an indifference to
bright colors. The sole feminine touch was Cindy; she was dressed in a very
feminine gown, light and blue like her eyes, and more than a little clinging.
Yet the girl -- she looked like a college student playing a grown-up --
obviously didn't belong here. She was alien. Wallace could see that much, so
much so that he fought the temptation to say, "Get out of here! You don't belong
here! Run!"

Their conversation continued, deliciously ordinary; and in the middle, without
any warning, Cindy assured him, "He thinks the world of you." Then she winked,
just slightly. "Which is something for him."

Mekal. She meant Mekal. Wallace didn't know how to respond, moving his empty
glass from one hand to the other.

"You help everyone in R&D, he says. 'Wallace is the intellectual grease for us!'
Actually, I think he's a little jealous, although he'd never admit it to anyone.
Never."

"I suppose not," said Wallace.

"You know my husband. . . ."

To which Wallace thought: "You and he don't belong together. This is a mistake,
you two. All wrong!"

He felt it -- knew it -- almost shivering from the stress of keeping his
knowledge inside himself.

He wasn't thinking about love, even his own love for the gift. He was oblivious
to it. If someone had told him, "You're smitten, Wallace," he would have denied
it, never sensing that he was lying.

And besides, love wasn't the point.

The point -- and no other seemed more important in the world -- the point was
that Cindy and Mekal were existing against the laws of nature. Marriages should
be working unions. The poor girl was chasing a fatherly figure, no doubt. And
Mekal was scrambling to regain his youth. It was a shame, he felt, and a little
sad; and he found himself frowning while Cindy said something about it being
nice, company coming like this, and she wished they could do it more often, and
would he like some more punch? Snacks? "Help yourself," she told him. "Make