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

producing a desire to improve the flow by physical contact. Her lips were passive against his. He found
himself thinking: If Hugh opened that door now. . .
She said, "Am I a child?"
"Of course. Now. . ."
Before he could go on, she kissed him again. The contact of their lips did not excite him. He
knew her too well and had kissed her often enough before, with this same knowledge that she would be
entirely his for the asking. He felt she was playing a kind of game. She had lifted her legs back onto the
bed and rested her head on the pillow again. But the feeling of their physical contact brought a strange
glow of joy, a sense of freedom. He made no attempt to stop her when she pushed back into the bed
again. But he deliberately broke the kiss to say, "Now back to bed."
"No. Let me sleep here."
"That would be silly."
She said, "You know why I wouldn't let Gordon do what he wanted? I was thinking that you
were going to be the first."
"Not now, though."
"No, all right, not now. But let me stay a few minutes longer. And put your light out."
"No. You ought to go."
"Not yet. Lie down and kiss me."
It was necessary to lie full length beside her, and to lean on his elbow, the other hand on her
waist. The waist was bare, and when he kissed her, he was also aware of the length of her bare legs
against him. He thought: This is exactly the right moment for Hugh to come in. . . Then he had a mental
image of Lewis outside the door on his knees, his eye to the keyhole.
After a moment she said, "You have more self-control than Gordon."
"That's a rather tactless thing to say!"
"But you don't mind, do you? I wouldn't try to lie to you. Do you want to marry me?"
"You're too young to marry."
 "I know. And you're twenty years my senior. Will you marry me, please? Am I being really
terrible?"
He propped himself up and looked down at her. Her eyes were open and candid. He said
quietly, "Yes, I'll marry you if you really want me to."
She smiled, and for a moment he wondered if she was going to cry; her eyes took on a strange,
clouded expression. She said, "And you'll tell Uncle Hugh tomorrow?"
"I don't know."
"But we are engaged now, aren't we?"
"Yes, we're engaged."
"And so you're really my husband now?"
"You're not sixteen yet."
"I shall be soon. Don't worry about that. I shan't ever change. I said I'd marry you when I was
ten. Turn the light out for a moment, please. I promise I'll go back to bed soon."
He sat up and reached for the overhead cord; then the room was dark except for the reflection
of a street lamp. She was also sitting up. He said, "What are you doing?"
"Taking this off. I just want to know we've been in bed together like this. Lie down."
He lay down beside her and held her warm body. This time he allowed himself to be drawn out
of his detachment, sinking into the kiss. He let his left hand wander over the small of her back, then over
the slim thighs and up to her breasts. As he kissed her, he tasted the salt on her nose.
She said, "Oh, I wish I could stay here all night. . ."
The tone surprised him. The last of the child had vanished; it was the voice of a woman in love.
He knew it would be impossible to ask her to leave now. If she were in the other room, he would
have to join her there. She lay there, completely passive. He found himself wondering which room in the
cottage they would sleep in, and which room could be used as a nursery. He was wondering about