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- Джон Уиндем
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I
shook
my
head
.
I
told
him
how
my
morning
had
been
spent
.
"
You
don
’
t
seem
to
have
got
much
change
for
it
.
So
what
?
"
he
said
.
"
I
’
m
going
on
after
the
Michael
Beadley
crowd
,
"
I
told
him
.
"
And
if
she
’
s
not
with
them
?
"
"
At
present
I
’
m
just
hoping
she
is
.
She
must
be
.
Where
else
would
she
be
?
"
He
started
to
say
something
and
stopped
.
Then
he
went
on
:
"
I
reckon
I
’
ll
come
along
with
you
.
It
’
s
likely
that
crowd
won
’
t
be
any
more
glad
to
see
me
than
this
one
,
considering
everything
—
but
I
can
live
that
down
.
I
’
ve
watched
one
lot
fall
to
bits
,
and
I
can
see
this
one
’
s
going
to
do
the
same
—
more
slowly
and
,
maybe
,
more
nastily
.
It
’
s
queer
,
isn
’
t
it
?
Decent
intentions
seem
to
be
the
most
dangerous
things
around
just
now
.
It
’
s
a
damned
shame
,
because
this
place
could
be
managed
,
in
spite
of
the
proportion
of
blind
.
Everything
it
needs
is
lying
about
for
the
taking
,
and
will
be
for
a
while
yet
.
It
’
s
only
organizing
that
’
s
wanted
.
"
"
And
willingness
to
be
organized
,
"
I
suggested
.
"
That
too
,
"
he
agreed
.
"
You
know
,
the
trouble
is
that
in
spite
of
all
that
’
s
happened
this
thing
hasn
’
t
got
home
to
these
people
yet
.
They
don
’
t
want
to
turn
to
—
that
’
d
be
making
it
too
final
.
At
the
back
of
their
minds
they
’
re
all
hanging
on
,
waiting
for
something
or
other
.
"
"
True
—
but
scarcely
surprising
,
"
I
admitted
.
"
It
took
plenty
to
convince
us
,
and
they
’
ve
not
seen
what
we
have
.
And
,
some
way
,
it
does
seem
less
final
and
less
—
less
immediate
out
here
in
the
country
.
"
