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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Стр. 248/351
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The
cell
door
was
open
and
Dick
was
slumped
on
a
chair
in
the
guard
-
room
.
The
carabinieri
had
washed
some
of
the
blood
from
his
face
,
brushed
him
and
set
his
hat
concealingly
upon
his
head
.
Baby
stood
in
the
doorway
trembling
.
"
Mr
.
Clay
will
stay
with
you
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
want
to
get
the
Consul
and
a
doctor
.
"
"
All
right
.
"
"
Just
stay
quiet
.
"
"
All
right
.
"
"
I
’
ll
be
back
.
"
She
drove
to
the
Consulate
;
it
was
after
eight
now
,
and
she
was
permitted
to
sit
in
the
ante
-
room
.
Toward
nine
the
Consul
came
in
and
Baby
,
hysterical
with
impotence
and
exhaustion
,
repeated
her
story
.
The
Consul
was
disturbed
.
He
warned
her
against
getting
into
brawls
in
strange
cities
,
but
he
was
chiefly
concerned
that
she
should
wait
outside
—
with
despair
she
read
in
his
elderly
eye
that
he
wanted
to
be
mixed
up
as
little
as
possible
in
this
catastrophe
.
Waiting
on
his
action
,
she
passed
the
minutes
by
phoning
a
doctor
to
go
to
Dick
.
There
were
other
people
in
the
ante
-
room
and
several
were
admitted
to
the
Consul
’
s
office
.
After
half
an
hour
she
chose
the
moment
of
some
one
’
s
coming
out
and
pushed
past
the
secretary
into
the
room
.
"
This
is
outrageous
!
An
American
has
been
beaten
half
to
death
and
thrown
into
prison
and
you
make
no
move
to
help
.
"
"
Just
a
minute
,
Mrs
—
"
