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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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Amory
tried
to
plan
quickly
.
"
You
make
a
racket
and
let
them
in
your
room
,
"
he
suggested
anxiously
,
"
and
I
'll
get
her
out
by
this
door
.
"
"
They
're
here
too
,
though
.
They
'll
watch
this
door
.
"
"
Ca
n't
you
give
a
wrong
name
?
"
"
No
chance
.
I
registered
under
my
own
name
;
besides
,
they
'd
trail
the
auto
license
number
.
"
"
Say
you
're
married
.
"
"
Jill
says
one
of
the
house
detectives
knows
her
.
"
The
girl
had
stolen
to
the
bed
and
tumbled
upon
it
;
lay
there
listening
wretchedly
to
the
knocking
which
had
grown
gradually
to
a
pounding
.
Then
came
a
man
's
voice
,
angry
and
imperative
:
"
Open
up
or
we
'll
break
the
door
in
!
"
In
the
silence
when
this
voice
ceased
Amory
realized
that
there
were
other
things
in
the
room
besides
people
...
over
and
around
the
figure
crouched
on
the
bed
there
hung
an
aura
,
gossamer
as
a
moonbeam
,
tainted
as
stale
,
weak
wine
,
yet
a
horror
,
diffusively
brooding
already
over
the
three
of
them
...
and
over
by
the
window
among
the
stirring
curtains
stood
something
else
,
featureless
and
indistinguishable
,
yet
strangely
familiar
...
Simultaneously
two
great
cases
presented
themselves
side
by
side
to
Amory
;
all
that
took
place
in
his
mind
,
then
,
occupied
in
actual
time
less
than
ten
seconds
.
