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- Филип Киндред Дик
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"
More
morbidity
?
"
Joe
said
.
He
seemed
lighthearted
,
more
so
than
at
any
time
since
she
had
met
him
;
with
a
yell
of
enthusiasm
,
he
clasped
her
around
the
waist
,
then
hoisted
her
up
into
his
arms
,
rocking
her
,
swinging
her
back
and
forth
,
peering
down
into
her
face
,
breathing
his
warm
breath
over
her
,
squeezing
her
until
she
bleated
.
"
No
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
’
m
just
slow
to
change
.
"
Still
a
little
scared
of
you
,
she
thought
.
So
scared
I
can
’
t
even
say
it
,
tell
you
about
it
.
"
Out
the
window
,
"
Joe
cried
,
stalking
across
the
room
with
her
in
his
arms
.
"
Here
we
go
.
"
"
Please
,
"
she
said
.
"
Kidding
.
Listen
—
we
’
re
going
on
a
march
,
like
the
March
on
Rome
.
You
remember
that
.
The
Duce
led
them
,
my
Uncle
Carlo
for
example
.
Now
we
have
a
little
march
,
less
important
,
not
noted
in
the
history
books
.
Right
?
"
Inclining
his
head
,
he
kissed
her
on
the
mouth
so
hard
that
their
teeth
clashed
.
"
How
nice
we
both
’
ll
look
,
in
our
new
clothes
.
And
you
can
explain
to
me
exactly
how
to
talk
,
deport
myself
;
right
?
Teach
me
manners
;
right
?
"
"
You
talk
okay
,
"
Juliana
said
.
"
Better
than
me
,
even
.
"
"
No
.
"
He
became
abruptly
somber
.
"
I
talk
very
bad
.
A
real
wop
accent
.
Didn
’
t
you
notice
it
when
you
first
met
me
in
the
cafe
?
"
"
I
guess
so
,
"
she
said
;
it
did
not
seem
important
to
her
.
"
Only
a
woman
knows
the
social
conventions
,
"
Joe
said
,
carrying
her
back
and
dropping
her
to
bounce
frighteningly
on
the
bed
.
"
Without
a
woman
we
’
d
discuss
racing
cars
and
horses
and
tell
dirty
jokes
;
no
civilization
.
"
