"Lisa Tuttle - Ghosts and Other Lovers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tuttle Lisa)

тАЬWell, perhaps you had ancestors who lived there? It is quite an old house, although itтАЩs been done up.тАЭ

тАЬI donтАЩt have any connection with Edinburgh. My people werenтАЩt Scottish. Sorry. You must have me
confused with someone else.тАЭ I couldnтАЩt even ask her what it was about, I so wanted her to get away
from me.

тАЬWell, itтАЩs very strange. You see, we have a ghost in our houseтАФIтАЩve seen her myself, several times, and
she looks very like you.тАЭ

I heard the street door open and I turned away, hoping for rescue, hoping it would be my friend. It was
David. As I saw him, and he saw me, and the woman beside me said, sounding more annoyed than glad,
тАЬOh, thereтАЩs my husband now. HeтАЩll tell you itтАЩs nonsense, because he doesnтАЩt believe in ghosts,тАЭ I
understood all at once. I was this womanтАЩs Jane. It was her house IтАЩd gone to in my dreams, hers and
DavidтАЩs. The only thing I didnтАЩt knowтАФand I suppose I never willтАФwas whether it was DavidтАЩs
mournful love which summoned my spirit, or her jealousy.

Mr. ElphinstoneтАЩs Hands
Mr. ElphinstoneтАЩs hands were cold and slightly damp.
This unpleasant physical detail was Eustacia WallaceтАЩs first impression of the medium, and even after she
had a good look at him in the lightтАФthe large, deep-set eyes, the graying beard, the high foreheadтАФeven
after she had heard him speak in a well-modulated, educated voice, Eustacia could think only of how
much she had disliked the touch of his hands.

She glanced at her sister and saw that, like the others in the stuffy, overcrowded parlor, Lydia Wallace
Steen was completely enraptured. She found herself rubbing the palms of her hands on her skirt, and
forced herself to stop. If she had been wearing gloves, like any properly brought up young ladyтАФif she
hadnтАЩt been such a hoyden as to lose her last pair and too careless to borrow from her sisterтАФif she had
been dressed as the other ladies, dressed as she should be, she would have known nothing of the
condition of Mr. ElphinstoneтАЩs flesh.

Lydia would be horrifiedтАФquite rightlyтАФif she knew her younger sisterтАЩs thoughts. Eustacia struggled, as
she had struggled so often before, to lift them to a higher plane. Mr. Elphinstone was talking about
Heavenly Rapture, Life Eternal, and the Love Which Passeth All Understanding. Eustacia found it hard to
concentrate. It wasnтАЩt that she preferred to think about Mr. ElphinstoneтАЩs hands, or about the unpleasant
warmth of the room, or about the fact that she hadnтАЩt had enough to eat at dinner, only . . . all these
things, things that belonged to the real world, had a power that abstract ideas, for all their beauty, lacked.
What chance had Perfect Love against a joint of beef or a cold, moist, human hand?

тАЬWe imagine the dead, our loved dead, as being like us; as being, still, the people we knewтАФour
children, parents, siblings, friends, sweethearts. We think of them wearing the same bodies, with no
difference, only passed beyond our ken. But, my dear, dear, brothers and sisters,тАЭ Mr. Elphinstone went
on, lowering his voice dramatically, тАЬthis isnot so . Death is a transformation much greater than the birth
to which it is sometimes compared. The soul leaves the body at death, achieving a new and wonderful
existence. Mortality is burnt away with the flesh. There are no bodies in the afterlife, no flesh in heaven.
Do you understand me?тАЭ

Heads nodded around the room. Eustacia nodded, too, wondering if there would be refreshments later.

тАЬThey are different, the dead. We cannot comprehend how different; we will know that only when we