"Madeliene E Robins - Somewhere In Dreamland Tonight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robins Madeleine E)

When she met the others at the Beacon Tower later she walked slowly, as if her
blood had taken on the rhythm of the sea. On the long train ride back to
Flatbush Avenue Ruth's hand floated at her chin and caressed the lace collar of
her dress.

That night she slept at Leda's. Her dreams were full of darkness and rhythm, the
touch of his hand, of his lips.

What is it about the college, about those boys that Peg finds so attractive?
Ruth frowns in the dimness of the attic. I should turn the electric on, she
thinks, but doesn't get up to flip the light switch. Those boys, most of them
cheap, stupid. They have raccoon coats and cheap Ford autos and Peg thinks
they're exciting. She'll waste herself on one of those boys, break her heart.
None of them will stay with her, marry her, take care of her. She needs a nice,
safe man like her father. She doesn't understand what I want to spare her.

Under her hands, which clench and twist, the fabric of the dress tears slightly,
releasing more lavender scent on the air. The summer I went to Coney, she
thinks. Over and over, every Saturday all summer long, with Aunt Min wondering
and worrying and silent as a stone, just looking down her nose on Sunday
mornings when I came home from Leda's. She stares at the dress in her hands and
slowly smooths the creases away.

During the week Ruth was quiet and thoughtful. She did her work quietly, didn't
spend much time talking to the other girls in the office. She browsed the shops
looking at dresses, but she had a superstitious feeling about wearing any other
dress than the pink one out to Coney. She went to choir rehearsal on Tuesday
nights and helped with Aunt Min's Friday socials, pouring out weak tea for hours
without protest. She carried her secret like an amulet against boredom and
frustration; it took so little to recall the feelings of Coney, the looseness
and languor, the hot urgent pressing of his lips against her throat. On Saturday
mornings she woke up, really awake, and dressed in the pink dress again, and
went to meet Leda and the others for the ride out to Coney.

After a few weeks, Leda suggested they go somewhere else on Saturday. To the
country for a picnic, to the city for a show. Ruth smiled and said perhaps, but
each Saturday they went to Coney. Pearline saw her fill and more of the miracle
babies and Jonah watched the end of Pompeii until he was sick of it, but as long
as they could sit in a gondola or on a wooden horse, pressed together, they were
willing to go out to Coney again. Leda looked out for young men looking at her,
but none did, no matter how she giggled and flirted her eyebrows. As the summer
went on Leda giggled less. Ruth didn't share her adventure with Leda, forgot to
ask if Leda had any beaux or flirtations. Leda, who had always been the forward,
kittenish one, began to look confused and hurt. Ruth did not notice.

August turned chilly for a few days, Aunt Min took her mantle from the back of
the closet to wear for church, and Ruth took to carrying a shawl with her. On a
Wednesday at the office, Leda told Ruth that she and Jonah had a christening to
go to that weekend. "We'll have to go to Coney next week," she said, not