"Connie Willis - The Winds Of Marble Arch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

"Of course itтАЩs still there," I said. "Scummy showers and all. Do you remember those narrow beds? They
were just like coffins, only at least coffins have sides so you donтАЩt roll off." The tie wasnтАЩt there. I
started taking shirts out of the suitcase and piling them on the bed. "These arenтАЩt much better. It makes
you wonder how the British have managed to reproduce all these years."

"We seemed to manage all right," Cath said, putting on her shoes. "What time does the conference start?"

"Ten," I said, dumping socks and underwear onto the bed. "What time are you meeting Sara?"

"Nine-thirty," she said, looking at her watch. "Will you have time to pick up the tickets for the play?"

"Sure," I said. "The Old Man wonтАЩt show up before eleven."

"Good," she said. "Sara and Elliott can only go Saturday. TheyтАЩve got something tomorrow night, and
weтАЩve got dinner with Milford HughesтАЩs widow and her sons Friday night. Is Arthur going with us to the
play? Did you get in touch with him?"

"No, but I know the Old ManтАЩll want to go. What are we seeing?" I asked, giving up on the tie.

"Ragtime, if we can get tickets. ItтАЩs at the Adelphi. If not, try to get The Tempest or Sunset Boulevard,
and if theyтАЩre sold out, Endgames. Hayley Mills is in it."

"Kismet isnтАЩt playing?"

She grinned again. "Kismet isnтАЩt playing."

"Which tube stop does it say for the Adelphi?"

"Charing Cross," she said, consulting the map. "Sunset BoulevardтАЩs at the Old Vic, and The TempestтАЩs at
the Duke of York. On Shaftesbury Avenue. You could get the tickets through a ticket agent. It would be
a lot faster than going to the theaters."

"Not on the tube, it wonтАЩt," I said. "ItтАЩs a snap to go anywhere. And ticket agents are for tourists."

She looked skeptical. "Get third row if you can, but not on the sides. And no farther back than the dress
circle."



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 The Winds of Marble Arch

"Not the balcony?" I asked. The farthest, steepest seats had been all we could afford the first time we
were here, so high up all you could see was the tops of the actorsтАЩ heads. When weтАЩd gone to Kismet, the
Old Man had spent the entire time leaning forward to look down the well-endowed LalumeтАЩs Arabian
costume through a pair of rental binoculars.

"Not the balcony," Cath said, sticking an umbrella and the guidebook in her bag. "Put it on the American
Express, if theyтАЩll take it. If not, the Visa."