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- Джон Фоулз
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But
I
was
beastly
,
really
.
Spoilt
.
He
suffered
it
all
.
He
’
s
so
weak
.
He
ought
to
have
slapped
me
across
the
face
.
He
did
catch
hold
of
me
,
to
stop
me
breaking
another
of
his
wretched
plates
.
We
so
rarely
touch
.
I
hated
it
.
It
was
like
icy
water
.
I
lectured
him
.
I
told
him
all
about
himself
and
what
he
ought
to
do
in
life
.
But
he
doesn
’
t
listen
.
He
likes
me
to
talk
about
him
.
It
doesn
’
t
matter
what
I
say
.
I
won
’
t
write
any
more
.
I
’
m
reading
Sense
and
Sensibility
and
I
must
find
out
what
happens
to
Marianne
.
Marianne
is
me
;
Eleanor
is
me
as
I
ought
to
be
.
What
happens
if
he
has
a
crash
?
A
stroke
.
Anything
.
I
die
.
I
couldn
’
t
get
out
.
All
I
did
the
day
before
yesterday
was
to
prove
it
.
November
6th
It
’
s
afternoon
.
No
lunch
.
