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

me about it. . . as if he didn't believe me. He kept saying he wouldn't be angry if I told the truth."
"You say he acted as if he didn't believe you?"
"Well, yes, at first. Then when I kept saying that nothing had happened, he asked me what else
Gordon had done. So I told him. Then he wanted to know all the details. I was rather frightened. I
thought he was going to try to get Gordon into trouble. But, somehow, he didn't seem angry. And finally
he let me go to bed."
She stopped, and they both sat there, saying nothing. He had taken her hand as she talked, to
encourage her. Now they both stared at their linked hands. He said finally, "You say he wanted to know
details? How much detail?"
She said eagerly, "Everything. How many times he kissed me. . . oh, you know, all the rest."
"Mmm. And it's since this that he's been taking more interest in you?"
"Yes. He made me promise not to go out with Gordon again, but he wasn't at all stern about it.
He suddenly started kissing me when I went out of the house. Then he gave me ten pounds to buy myself
a nightie and some underwear. And as soon as I came back, he made me change into it. I wanted to go
up to my room, but he said it was cold, and I'd better stay in front of the fire."
"Didn't you mind?"
"Well, no. It seemed quite natural. He'd paid for the things and he wanted to see them. But after
that I began to wonder a bit. I mean, he'd often lift up my dress, as he did today. And he kisses me and
touches me a lot more than he used to. . ."
"Touches you!"
"I don't mean that. Just fondles me. . . Oh, I know all this sounds stupid. There's something else.
He gave me a book to read a few weeks ago -- some fairy tales by Gogol. The first one was about a
father who wants to sleep with his daughter. Little things like that, all the time."
"But why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I. . . don't know. I'd begun to wonder whether I wasn't imagining it all. Perhaps I am. I don't
know. Perhaps he just wants to show me he likes me to be grown up. And for the past week he hasn't
been doing it so much. He's had a lot of work, and he's even asked me why I don't go out to the
pictures. So I never know. . . Then today. . . I notice that drinking always makes him want to touch me a
lot."
He said slowly, "I don't quite know what to suggest. There's nothing illegal about an uncle kissing
his niece."
"Oh no, of course not. I didn't mean that."
"And probably that's all he wants to do."
"Then why do you think he wants to sleep up here?"
"Are you sure he does? Anyway, I can't imagine him trying to force his way into your room at
midnight, it's just not his style. Besides, if you object to being kissed by him, there are always delicate
ways to discourage him without hurting his feelings."
She said, "I'm not so sure. He's terribly hard to live with when he's sulky."
They both stopped to listen; a door downstairs had banged. She said, "It's only the downstairs
bathroom. That means he's going to bed."
He said gently, "And I think you ought to follow his example."
"Yes, in a moment. . . If Uncle Hugh guessed I was here, he'd question me for an hour to find out
what happened."
He was shocked. "Oh nol He couldn't believe that I'd try and. . . seduce you."
She laughed. He looked at her curiously. She said, "I'm not sure it's you he mistrusts!"
"Go on, now! Off to bed! You're only a child. . ."
"Am I?"
She threw back the bedclothes and sat on the edge of the bed. For a moment he felt regret at
being deprived of her warmth. Then she leaned forward and held out her mouth for a kiss. He placed his
hand on the back of her head, aware as he did so that a hypnotic warmth was holding them together,