"Theodore Sturgeon - The Perfect Host" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sturgeon Theodore)

pelting down the path. Dr. Knapp, bag in hand, was close behind them.
Dr. Carstairs and Dr. Greenberg were under the window and already shunting away the few
curious visitors who had appeared as if from out of the ground, the way people do after an
accident anywhere. But most important of all, I saw Mrs. Stoye's body. It was lying crumpled up,
directly below me, and there was no doubt of it that her neck was broken and her skull badly
fractured. I went and sat down again.
Afterward Dr. Knapp questioned me closely and, I must say, very kindly. I told him nothing
about the strange disappearance of the body. I expect he thought I was crying because I felt
responsible for the death. He assured me that my record was in my favor, and it was perfectly
understandable that I was helpless to stop Mrs. Stoye.
I apparently went quite to pieces then, and Dr. Knapp suggested that I take my two weeks'
leave--it was due in another twenty days in any case--immediately, and rest up and forget this
thing.
I said, "Perhaps I will."
I went out to the Quarters to bathe and change. And now I had better say how I felt during all
this....
I was terrified when Mrs. Stoye jumped. When I reached the window right afterward, I was
exactly as excited as one might expect.
But the instant I looked down, something happened. It wasn't anything I can describe, except
to say that there was a change of attitude. That doesn't seem to mean much, does it? Well, I can
only say this; that from that moment I was no longer frightened nor shocked nor horrified nor
anything else. I remember putting my hands up to my mouth, and I must have given a perfect picture
of a terrified nurse.
I was actually quite calm. I was quite cool as I ran to the bell and then out onto the hall. I
collapsed, I cried, I sobbed, I produced a flood of tears and streaks for my face. But during
every minute of it I was completely calm.
Now, I knew that was strange, but I felt no surprise at it. I knew that it could be called


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dishonest. I don't know how to analyze it. I am a nurse, and a profound sense of duty has been
drilled into me for years. I felt that it was my duty to cry, to say nothing about the
disappearance of the body, to get the two weeks' leave immediately, and to do the other things
which I have done and must do.
While I bathed I thought. I was still calm, and I suppose I behaved calmly; it didn't matter,
for there was no one to see.
Two people had seen Mrs. Stoye jump besides myself. I realized that I must see them. I didn't
think about the disappearing body. I didn't feel I had to, somehow, any more than one thinks
consciously of the water in the pipes and heaters as one draws a bath. The thing was there, and
needed no investigation.
But it was necessary to see that man and the boy. What I must do when I saw them required no
thought either. That seemed all arranged, unquestionable, so evident that it needed no thought or
definition.
I put away the white stockings and shoes with a feeling of relief, and slipped into
underthings with a bit of lace on them, and sheer hose. I put on my wine rayon with the gored
skirt, and the matching shoes. I combed my hair out and put it up in a roll around the back, cool
and out of the way. Money, keys, cigarette case, knife, lighter, compact. All ready.
I went round by the administration offices, thinking hard. A man visits the hospital with his