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- Джон Фоулз
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- Коллекционер
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C
.
(
there
was
an
awkward
silence
)
See
you
later
,
then
.
(
Exit
Caliban
.
I
hit
my
pillow
so
hard
that
it
has
looked
reproachful
ever
since
.
)
(
This
evening
—
as
I
knew
I
would
and
could
—
I
coaxed
and
bullied
him
,
and
he
wrote
out
a
cheque
for
a
hundred
pounds
,
which
he
’
s
promised
to
send
off
tomorrow
.
I
know
this
is
right
.
A
year
ago
I
would
have
stuck
to
the
strict
moral
point
.
Like
Major
Barbara
.
But
the
essential
is
that
we
have
money
.
Not
where
the
money
comes
from
,
or
why
it
is
sent
.
)
October
19th
I
have
been
out
.
I
was
copying
all
the
afternoon
(
Piero
)
and
I
was
in
the
sort
of
mood
where
normally
I
have
to
go
out
to
the
cinema
or
to
a
coffee
-
bar
,
anywhere
.
But
out
.
I
made
him
take
me
by
giving
myself
to
him
like
a
slave
.
Bind
me
,
I
said
,
but
take
me
.
He
bound
and
gagged
me
,
held
my
arm
,
and
we
walked
round
the
garden
.
Quite
a
big
one
.
It
was
very
dark
,
I
could
just
make
out
the
path
and
some
trees
.
And
it
is
very
lonely
.
Right
out
in
the
country
somewhere
.
Then
suddenly
in
the
darkness
I
knew
something
was
wrong
with
him
.
I
couldn
’
t
see
him
,
but
I
was
suddenly
frightened
,
I
just
knew
he
wanted
to
kiss
me
or
something
worse
.
He
tried
to
say
something
about
being
very
happy
;
his
voice
very
strained
.
Choked
.
And
then
,
that
I
didn
’
t
think
he
had
any
deep
feelings
,
but
he
had
.
It
’
s
so
terrible
not
being
able
to
speak
.
My
tongue
’
s
my
defence
with
him
,
normally
.
My
tongue
and
my
look
.
There
was
a
little
silence
,
but
I
knew
he
was
pent
up
.
All
the
time
I
was
breathing
in
beautiful
outdoor
air
.
That
was
good
,
so
good
I
can
’
t
describe
it
.
So
living
,
so
full
of
plant
smells
and
country
smells
and
the
thousand
mysterious
wet
smells
of
the
night
.
