-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
-
- Ночь нежна
-
- Стр. 76/351
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
You
darling
.
"
They
reached
the
hotel
and
Rosemary
walked
a
little
behind
him
,
to
admire
him
,
to
adore
him
.
His
step
was
alert
as
if
he
had
just
come
from
some
great
doings
and
was
hurrying
on
toward
others
.
Organizer
of
private
gaiety
,
curator
of
a
richly
incrusted
happiness
.
His
hat
was
a
perfect
hat
and
he
carried
a
heavy
stick
and
yellow
gloves
.
She
thought
what
a
good
time
they
would
all
have
being
with
him
to
-
night
.
They
walked
upstairs
—
five
flights
.
At
the
first
landing
they
stopped
and
kissed
;
she
was
careful
on
the
next
landing
,
on
the
third
more
careful
still
.
On
the
next
—
there
were
two
more
—
she
stopped
half
way
and
kissed
him
fleetingly
good
-
by
.
At
his
urgency
she
walked
down
with
him
to
the
one
below
for
a
minute
—
and
then
up
and
up
.
Finally
it
was
good
-
by
with
their
hands
stretching
to
touch
along
the
diagonal
of
the
banister
and
then
the
fingers
slipping
apart
Dick
went
back
downstairs
to
make
some
arrangements
for
the
evening
—
Rosemary
ran
to
her
room
and
wrote
a
letter
to
her
mother
;
she
was
conscience
-
stricken
because
she
did
not
miss
her
mother
at
all
.
Although
the
Divers
were
honestly
apathetic
to
organized
fashion
,
they
were
nevertheless
too
acute
to
abandon
its
contemporaneous
rhythm
and
beat
—
Dick
’
s
parties
were
all
concerned
with
excitement
,
and
a
chance
breath
of
fresh
night
air
was
the
more
precious
for
being
experienced
in
the
intervals
of
the
excitement
.
The
party
that
night
moved
with
the
speed
of
a
slapstick
comedy
.
They
were
twelve
,
they
were
sixteen
,
they
were
quartets
in
separate
motors
bound
on
a
quick
Odyssey
over
Paris
.
Everything
had
been
foreseen
.
People
joined
them
as
if
by
magic
,
accompanied
them
as
specialists
,
almost
guides
,
through
a
phase
of
the
evening
,
dropped
out
and
were
succeeded
by
other
people
,
so
that
it
appeared
as
if
the
freshness
of
each
one
had
been
husbanded
for
them
all
day
.
Rosemary
appreciated
how
different
it
was
from
any
party
in
Hollywood
,
no
matter
how
splendid
in
scale
.
There
was
,
among
many
diversions
,
the
car
of
the
Shah
of
Persia
.
Where
Dick
had
commandeered
this
vehicle
,
what
bribery
was
employed
,
these
were
facts
of
irrelevance
.
Rosemary
accepted
it
as
merely
a
new
facet
of
the
fabulous
,
which
for
two
years
had
filled
her
life
.
The
car
had
been
built
on
a
special
chassis
in
America
.
Its
wheels
were
of
silver
,
so
was
the
radiator
.
The
inside
of
the
body
was
inlaid
with
innumerable
brilliants
which
would
be
replaced
with
true
gems
by
the
court
jeweller
when
the
car
arrived
in
Teheran
the
following
week
.
There
was
only
one
real
seat
in
back
,
because
the
Shah
must
ride
alone
,
so
they
took
turns
riding
in
it
and
sitting
on
the
marten
fur
that
covered
the
floor
.
But
always
there
was
Dick
.
Rosemary
assured
the
image
of
her
mother
,
ever
carried
with
her
,
that
never
,
never
had
she
known
any
one
so
nice
,
so
thoroughly
nice
as
Dick
was
that
night
.
She
compared
him
with
the
two
Englishmen
,
whom
Abe
addressed
conscientiously
as
"
Major
Hengest
and
Mr
.
Horsa
,
"
and
with
the
heir
to
a
Scandinavian
throne
and
the
novelist
just
back
from
Russia
,
and
with
Abe
,
who
was
desperate
and
witty
,
and
with
Collis
Clay
,
who
joined
them
somewhere
and
stayed
along
—
and
felt
there
was
no
comparison
.
The
enthusiasm
,
the
selflessness
behind
the
whole
performance
ravished
her
,
the
technic
of
moving
many
varied
types
,
each
as
immobile
,
as
dependent
on
supplies
of
attention
as
an
infantry
battalion
is
dependent
on
rations
,
appeared
so
effortless
that
he
still
had
pieces
of
his
own
most
personal
self
for
everyone
.
—
Afterward
she
remembered
the
times
when
she
had
felt
the
happiest
.
The
first
time
was
when
she
and
Dick
danced
together
and
she
felt
her
beauty
sparkling
bright
against
his
tall
,
strong
form
as
they
floated
,
hovering
like
people
in
an
amusing
dream
—
he
turned
her
here
and
there
with
such
a
delicacy
of
suggestion
that
she
was
like
a
bright
bouquet
,
a
piece
of
precious
cloth
being
displayed
before
fifty
eyes
.
There
was
a
moment
when
they
were
not
dancing
at
all
,
simply
clinging
together
.
Some
time
in
the
early
morning
they
were
alone
,
and
her
damp
powdery
young
body
came
up
close
to
him
in
a
crush
of
tired
cloth
,
and
stayed
there
,
crushed
against
a
background
of
other
people
’
s
hats
and
wraps
.
.
.
.
The
time
she
laughed
most
was
later
,
when
six
of
them
,
the
best
of
them
,
noblest
relics
of
the
evening
,
stood
in
the
dusky
front
lobby
of
the
Ritz
telling
the
night
concierge
that
General
Pershing
was
outside
and
wanted
caviare
and
champagne
.
"
He
brooks
no
delay
.
Every
man
,
every
gun
is
at
his
service
.
"
Frantic
waiters
emerged
from
nowhere
,
a
table
was
set
in
the
lobby
,
and
Abe
came
in
representing
General
Pershing
while
they
stood
up
and
mumbled
remembered
fragments
of
war
songs
at
him
.
In
the
waiters
’
injured
reaction
to
this
anti
-
climax
they
found
themselves
neglected
,
so
they
built
a
waiter
trap
—
a
huge
and
fantastic
device
constructed
of
all
the
furniture
in
the
lobby
and
functioning
like
one
of
the
bizarre
machines
of
a
Goldberg
cartoon
.
Abe
shook
his
head
doubtfully
at
it
.
"
Perhaps
it
would
be
better
to
steal
a
musical
saw
and
—
"