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- Джон Фоулз
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- Стр. 189/299
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(
I
remember
he
once
said
about
a
Mondrian
—
"
it
isn
’
t
whether
you
like
it
,
but
whether
you
ought
to
like
it
"
—
I
mean
,
he
dislikes
abstract
art
on
principle
.
He
ignores
what
he
feels
.
)
I
’
ve
been
leaving
the
worst
to
last
.
Women
.
It
must
have
been
about
the
fourth
or
fifth
time
I
went
round
to
see
him
.
There
was
the
Nielsen
woman
.
I
suppose
(
now
)
they
’
d
been
to
bed
together
.
I
was
so
naive
.
But
they
didn
’
t
seem
to
mind
my
coming
.
They
needn
’
t
have
answered
the
bell
.
And
she
was
rather
nice
to
me
in
her
glittery
at
-
home
sort
of
way
.
Must
be
forty
—
what
could
he
see
in
her
?
Then
a
long
time
after
that
,
it
was
May
,
and
I
’
d
been
the
night
before
,
but
he
was
out
(
or
in
bed
with
someone
?
)
and
that
evening
he
was
in
and
alone
,
and
we
talked
some
time
(
he
was
telling
me
about
John
Minton
)
and
then
he
put
on
an
Indian
record
and
we
were
quiet
.
But
he
didn
’
t
shut
his
eyes
that
time
,
he
was
looking
at
me
and
I
was
embarrassed
.
When
the
raga
ended
there
was
a
silence
.
I
said
,
shall
I
turn
it
?
but
he
said
,
no
.
He
was
in
the
shadow
,
I
couldn
’
t
see
him
very
well
.
Suddenly
he
said
,
Would
you
like
to
come
to
bed
?
I
said
,
no
I
wouldn
’
t
.
He
caught
me
by
surprise
and
I
sounded
foolish
.
Frightened
.
He
said
,
his
eyes
still
on
me
,
ten
years
ago
I
would
have
married
you
.
You
would
have
been
my
second
disastrous
marriage
.
It
wasn
’
t
really
a
surprise
.
It
had
been
waiting
for
weeks
.
He
came
and
stood
by
me
.
You
’
re
sure
?
