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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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When
the
communication
was
over
he
tried
to
drag
the
afternoon
together
saying
:
"
I
expect
some
nourishment
from
people
now
.
"
"
Me
too
,
"
Rosemary
agreed
.
"
The
man
that
just
phoned
me
once
knew
a
second
cousin
of
mine
.
Imagine
calling
anybody
up
for
a
reason
like
that
!
"
Now
she
lowered
the
lights
for
love
.
Why
else
should
she
want
to
shut
off
his
view
of
her
?
He
sent
his
words
to
her
like
letters
,
as
though
they
left
him
some
time
before
they
reached
her
.
"
Hard
to
sit
here
and
be
close
to
you
,
and
not
kiss
you
.
"
Then
they
kissed
passionately
in
the
centre
of
the
floor
.
She
pressed
against
him
,
and
went
back
to
her
chair
.
It
could
not
go
on
being
merely
pleasant
in
the
room
.
Forward
or
backward
;
when
the
phone
rang
once
more
he
strolled
into
the
bedchamber
and
lay
down
on
her
bed
,
opening
Albert
McKisco
’
s
novel
.
Presently
Rosemary
came
in
and
sat
beside
him
.
"
You
have
the
longest
eyelashes
,
"
she
remarked
.
"
We
are
now
back
at
the
Junior
Prom
.
Among
those
present
are
Miss
Rosemary
Hoyt
,
the
eyelash
fancier
—
"
She
kissed
him
and
he
pulled
her
down
so
that
they
lay
side
by
side
,
and
then
they
kissed
till
they
were
both
breathless
.
Her
breathing
was
young
and
eager
and
exciting
.
Her
lips
were
faintly
chapped
but
soft
in
the
corners
.
When
they
were
still
limbs
and
feet
and
clothes
,
struggles
of
his
arms
and
back
,
and
her
throat
and
breasts
,
she
whispered
,
"
No
,
not
now
—
those
things
are
rhythmic
.
"
