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

"Oh, there's loads of them.... From the Association for
Sobriety and Morality.... The Connoisseurs and Appraisers are
also a bad lot...."
"No, Rimeyer is a decent sort," I said with some effort.
"Decent... you are all decent. In the beginning, Rimeyer
too was decent, so good-natured and full of fun... and now he
looks at you like a croc."
"Poor fellow," I said. "He must have remembered his family
and become ashamed of himself."
"He doesn't have a family. Anyway, the heck with him! Have
another drink?"
We had another drink. She lay down and put her hands over
her head. Finally she spoke.
"Don't let it get to you. Spit on it! Wine we have enough
of, we'll dance, go to the shivers. Tomorrow there's a football
game, we'll bet on the Bulls."
"I am not letting it get to me. If you want to bet on the
Bulls, we'd bet on the Bulls."
"Oh those Bulls! They are some boys! I could watch them
forever, arms like iron, snuggling up against them is just like
snuggling against a tree trunk, really!"
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in!" yelled Ilina.
A man entered and stopped at once. He was tall and bony,
of middle age, with a brush mustache and light protruding eyes.
"I beg your pardon, I was looking for Rimeyer," he said.
"Everyone here wants to see Rimeyer," said Ilina. "Have a
chair and we'll all wait together."
The stranger bowed his head and sat down by the table,
crossing his legs.
Apparently he had been here before. He did not look
around, but stared at the wall directly in front of him.
However, perhaps he just was not a curious type. In any case,
it was clear that neither I nor Ilina was of any interest to
him. This seemed unnatural to me, since I felt that such a pair
as myself and Ilina should arouse interest in any normal
person. Ilina raised up on her elbow and scrutinized him in
detail.
"I have seen you somewhere," she said.
"Really?" said the stranger coldly.
"What's your name?"
"Oscar. I am Rimeyer's friend."
"That's fine," said Ilina. She was obviously irritated by
the stranger's indifference, but she kept herself in check.
"He's also a friend of Rimeyer." She stuck her finger at me.
"You know each other?"
"No," said. Oscar, continuing to look at the wall.
"My name is Ivan," said I. "And this is Rimeyer's friend,
Ilina. We just drank to our fraternal friendship."
Oscar glanced indifferently in Ilina's direction and