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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Стр. 199/351
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"
What
will
you
do
,
Dick
?
"
"
We
’
ll
stay
here
with
the
car
.
"
Neither
of
them
looked
at
their
mother
as
they
started
off
.
"
Be
careful
crossing
the
road
up
there
!
Look
both
ways
!
"
Dick
shouted
after
them
.
He
and
Nicole
looked
at
each
other
directly
,
their
eyes
like
blazing
windows
across
a
court
of
the
same
house
Then
she
took
out
a
compact
,
looked
in
its
mirror
,
and
smoothed
back
the
temple
hair
.
Dick
watched
the
children
climbing
for
a
moment
until
they
disappeared
among
the
pines
half
way
up
;
then
he
walked
around
the
car
to
see
the
damage
and
plan
how
to
get
it
back
on
the
road
.
In
the
dirt
he
could
trace
the
rocking
course
they
had
pursued
for
over
a
hundred
feet
;
he
was
filled
with
a
violent
disgust
that
was
not
like
anger
.
In
a
few
minutes
the
proprietor
of
the
inn
came
running
down
.
"
My
God
!
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
How
did
it
happen
,
were
you
going
fast
?
What
luck
!
Except
for
that
tree
you
’
d
have
rolled
down
hill
!
"
Taking
advantage
of
Emile
’
s
reality
,
the
wide
black
apron
,
the
sweat
upon
the
rolls
of
his
face
,
Dick
signalled
to
Nicole
in
a
matter
-
of
-
fact
way
to
let
him
help
her
from
the
car
;
whereupon
she
jumped
over
the
lower
side
,
lost
her
balance
on
the
slope
,
fell
to
her
knees
and
got
up
again
.
As
she
watched
the
men
trying
to
move
the
car
her
expression
became
defiant
.
Welcoming
even
that
mood
Dick
said
:
"
Go
and
wait
with
the
children
,
Nicole
.
"
Only
after
she
had
gone
did
he
remember
that
she
had
wanted
cognac
,
and
that
there
was
cognac
available
up
there
—
he
told
Emile
never
mind
about
the
car
;
they
would
wait
for
the
chauffeur
and
the
big
car
to
pull
it
up
onto
the
road
.
Together
they
hurried
up
to
the
inn
.
