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

was the matter: during the whole day, I had not met a single
truly pleasant person, and I simply had gotten tired of it.
There was nothing to her, after all.
"Let's go somewhere," she said.
"We could," I said. I really didn't want to go anywhere, I
wanted to sit and relax in the cool room for a while.
"I can see you're not too eager," she said.
"To be honest, I would prefer to sit around here for a
bit."
"Well then, amuse me."
I considered the problem, and recounted the story of the
traveling salesman in the upper bunk. She liked it, but I think
she missed the point. I made a correction in my aim, and told
her the one about the president and the old maid. She laughed a
long time, kicking her wonderfully long legs. Then, taking
courage from another shot of brandy, I told about the widow
with the mushrooms growing on the wall. She slid down to the
floor and almost knocked over the tray. I picked her up under
the armpits, hoisted her back up in the chair, and delivered
the story of the drunk spaceman and the college girl, at which
point Aunt Vaina came rushing in and inquired fearfully what
was going on with Vousi, and whether I was tickling her
unmercifully. I poured Aunt Vaina a glass, and addressing
myself to her personally, recounted the one about the Irishman
who wanted to be a gardener. Vousi was completely shattered,
but Aunt Vaina smiled sorrowfully and confided that Major
General Tuur liked to tell the same story, when he was in a
good mood. But in it there was, she thought, a Negro instead of
the Irishman, and he aspired to the duties of a piano tuner and
not a gardener. "And you know, Ivan, the story ended somehow
differently," she added after some thought. At this point I
noticed Len standing in the doorway, looking at us. I waved and
smiled at him. He seemed not to notice, so I winked at him and
beckoned for him to come in.
"Whom are you winking at?" asked Vousi, through lingering
laughter.
"It's Len," I said. It was really a pleasure to watch her,
as I love to see people laugh, especially such a one as Vousi,
beautiful and almost a child.
"Where's Len?" she wondered.
There was no Len in the doorway.
"Len isn't here," said Aunt Vaina, who was sniffing the
brandy with approval, and did not notice a thing. "The boy went
to the Ziroks' birthday party today. If you only knew, Ivan..."
"But why does he say it was Len?" asked Vousi, glancing at
the door again.
"Len was here," I said. "I waved at him, and be ran away.
You know, he looked a bit wild to me."
"Ach, we have a highly nervous boy there," said Aunt
Vaina. "He was born in a very difficult time, and they just