"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. The Final Circle of Paradise (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

out. 'Take the fool away,' they said. Or also recently those
pregnant males."
"Who?"'
"The sad ones. Well, I can see you don't understand a
thing. Where in heaven's name did you come from?"
"From Vienna."
"So - don't you have the sad ones in Vienna?"
"You couldn't imagine what we don't have in Vienna."
"Could be you don't even have irregular meetings?"
"No, we don't have them. All our meetings are regular,
like a bus schedule."
She was having a good time.
"Perhaps you don't have waitresses either?"
"Waitresses we do have, and you can find some excellent
examples. Are you a waitress then?"
She jumped up abruptly.
"That won't do at all," she cried. "I've had enough sad
ones for today. Now you're going to have a loving cup with me
like a good fellow...." She began to search furiously among the
bottles by the window. "Damn him, they're all empty! Could be
you're a teetotaler? Aha, here's a little vermouth. You drink
that, or shall we order whiskey?"
"Let's begin with the vermouth," said I.
She banged the bottle on the table and took two glasses
from the window sill.
"Have to wash them. Hold on a minute, everything's full of
garbage." She went into the bathroom and continued to speak
from there. "If you turned out to be a teetotaler on top of
everything else. I don't know what I would do with you.... What
a pigsty he's got in his bathroom - I love it! Where are you
staying? Here too?"
"No, in town," I replied. "On Second Waterway."
She came back with the glasses.
"Straight or with water?"
"Straight, I guess."
"All foreigners take it straight. But we have it with
water for some reason." She sat on my armchair and put her arms
around my shoulders. We drank and kissed without any feeling.
Her lips were heavily lipsticked, and her eyelids were heavy
from lack of sleep and fatigue. She put down her glass,
searched out another butt in the ashtray, and returned to the
hassock.
"Where is that Rimeyer?" she said. "After all, how long
can you wait for him? Have you known him a long time?"
"No, not very."
"I think maybe he is a louse," she said with sudden ire.
"He's dug everything out of me, and now he plays hard to get.
He doesn't open his door, the animal, and you can't get through
to him by phone. Say, he wouldn't be a spy, would he?"
"What do you mean, a spy?"