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- Джером Дэвид Сэлинджер
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- Стр. 106/159
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Clay
took
a
couple
of
slow
steps
toward
the
door
.
"
I
may
drive
over
to
Ehstadt
later
,
"
he
said
.
"
They
got
a
dance
.
It
’
ll
probably
last
till
around
two
.
Wanna
go
?
"
"
No
,
thanks
.
.
.
.
I
may
practice
a
few
steps
in
the
room
.
"
"
O
.
K
.
G
’
night
!
Take
it
easy
,
now
,
for
Chrissake
.
"
The
door
slammed
shut
,
then
instantly
opened
again
.
"
Hey
.
O
.
K
.
if
I
leave
a
letter
to
Loretta
under
your
door
?
I
got
some
German
stuff
in
it
.
Willya
fix
it
up
for
me
?
"
"
Yes
.
Leave
me
alone
now
,
God
damn
it
.
"
"
Sure
,
"
said
Clay
.
"
You
know
what
my
mother
wrote
me
?
She
wrote
me
she
’
s
glad
you
and
I
were
together
and
all
the
whole
war
.
In
the
same
jeep
and
all
.
She
says
my
letters
are
a
helluva
lot
more
intelligent
since
we
been
goin
’
around
together
.
"
X
looked
up
and
over
at
him
,
and
said
,
with
great
effort
,
"
Thanks
.
Tell
her
thanks
for
me
.
"
"
I
will
.
G
’
night
!
"
The
door
slammed
shut
,
this
time
for
good
.
X
sat
looking
at
the
door
for
a
long
while
,
then
turned
his
chair
around
toward
the
writing
table
and
picked
up
his
portable
typewriter
from
the
floor
.
He
made
space
for
it
on
the
messy
table
surface
,
pushing
aside
the
collapsed
pile
of
unopened
letters
and
packages
.
He
thought
if
he
wrote
a
letter
to
an
old
friend
of
his
in
New
York
there
might
be
some
quick
,
however
slight
,
therapy
in
it
for
him
.
But
he
couldn
’
t
insert
his
notepaper
into
the
roller
properly
,
his
fingers
were
shaking
so
violently
now
.
He
put
his
hands
down
at
his
sides
for
a
minute
,
then
tried
again
,
but
finally
crumpled
the
notepaper
in
his
hand
.
He
was
aware
that
he
ought
to
get
the
wastebasket
out
of
the
room
,
but
instead
of
doing
anything
about
it
,
he
put
his
arms
on
the
typewriter
and
rested
his
head
again
,
closing
his
eyes
.
