"Colin Wilson - The Glass Cage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson Colin)

about nothing else."
The door downstairs clicked. She jumped up and hurried to the door. Lewis's voice said, "Good
night, Sarah."
"Good night, Uncle."
"Are you in bed yet?"
"Yes. I've just finished drying my hair."
"Get to sleep then. School tomorrow."
The door closed. She turned back to Reade. "You see?"
"What? He only wanted to say good night."
"He never used to bother."
"I know. But you're getting older. He no longer treats you like a child."
"Oh yes, he does."
She came back to the bed. He reached out and touched her forearm; it was cold.
"You ought to get into bed. You'll catch cold."
"Shall I?" She reached out for the bedclothes.
He said, "I meant your own!"
"Oh. . ."
He relented, seeing her hesitation; besides the thought of having her beside him was pleasant.
"All right, then. Get in. But if you hear your uncle on the stairs, you'll have to hide!"
She said, "Just for a few moments."
Her feet were cold against his. She sat up beside him and he adjusted a pillow for her back. This
sudden change in the situation produced in him a feeling of constraint, a need to emphasize his
detachment. He said, "Your friend Jill sounds a bit malicious. I agree that your uncle's rather a strange
and complicated man. But I think he has a strong sense of his duty toward you."
 She said, smiling, "I wonder what he'd say if he knew I was in bed with you?"
"Let's hope he doesn't find out."
"He asked me the other day if I still wanted to marry you."
"What did you say?"
"I said no, of course."
He smiled. "That's just as well."
"I thought of saying yes, just to see what he'd say. But I knew he'd be upset."
"I don't see why. It used to be a joke when you were ten."
"I suppose so. I didn't think it was a joke."
He said, "I think you ought to get into your own bed now. He might be outside the door,
listening."
"No. The stairs creak. Anyway, I haven't told you everything yet."
"No?" He looked at her in surprise and saw that she had colored again.
She went on quickly, as if she was afraid of being interrupted, "I don't suppose I ought to tell you
this, but I might as well. You see. . . last time I went out with Jill and two boys. . . we went for a picnic
down the lake. And Jill went off with one of the boys and I stayed with the other and. . . he wanted me to
have sex with him."
The word made his heart contract. He said, in a voice that did not seem to be his own, "And did
you?"
"Oh no. I didn't really like him much. But I let him kiss me and. . . touch me."
"Does your uncle know about this?"
To his surprise she said, "Yes. That's what I was going to say. . ." She proceeded in a rush, as if
glad to have got the worst over. "I got home very late, and he wouldn't let me go to bed until he'd asked
me lots of questions. He knew I'd been out with boys, and he could see grass stains on my dress. But he
wasn't at all angry, you see. He said he knew I wasn't a child, and that if I'd be frank with him, he
wouldn't be angry. So I told him that I hadn't let Gordon. . . do what he wanted. But he kept on asking