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- Стр. 473/535
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If
he
watched
her
carefully
,
one
day
he
'd
get
lucky
.
The
soundless
laugh
quivered
in
him
;
fair
,
fat
,
forty
and
flatulent
.
What
had
brought
it
to
his
lips
he
did
n't
know
,
except
that
a
long
time
ago
his
ex-wife
had
said
it
to
him
.
The
four
F
's
,
describing
the
typical
victim
of
gallstones
.
She
had
been
a
martyr
to
them
,
poor
Annelise
,
even
though
she
was
dark
,
skinny
,
fifty
and
as
well
corked
as
a
genie
in
a
bottle
.
What
am
I
thinking
of
Annelise
for
,
now
?
My
patient
campaign
of
years
turned
into
a
rout
,
and
I
can
do
no
better
than
poor
Annelise
.
So
,
Fräulein
Justine
O'Neill
!
We
shall
see
.
There
were
lights
in
the
palace
windows
;
he
would
go
up
for
a
few
minutes
,
talk
to
Cardinal
Ralph
,
who
was
looking
old
.
Not
well
.
Perhaps
he
ought
to
be
persuaded
into
a
medical
examination
.
Rainer
ached
,
but
not
for
Justine
;
she
was
young
,
there
was
time
.
For
Cardinal
Ralph
,
who
had
seen
his
own
son
ordained
,
and
not
known
it
.
*
*
*
It
was
still
early
,
so
the
hotel
foyer
was
crowded
.
Shoes
on
,
Justine
crossed
quickly
to
the
stairs
and
ran
up
them
,
head
bent
.
Then
for
some
time
her
trembling
hands
could
n't
find
the
room
key
in
her
bag
and
she
thought
she
would
have
to
go
down
again
,
brave
the
throng
about
the
desk
.
But
it
was
there
;
she
must
have
passed
her
fingers
over
it
a
dozen
times
.
Inside
at
last
,
she
groped
her
way
to
the
bed
,
sat
down
on
its
edge
and
let
coherent
thought
gradually
return
.
Telling
herself
she
was
revolted
,
horrified
,
disillusioned
;
all
the
while
staring
drearily
at
the
wide
rectangle
of
pale
light
which
was
the
night
sky
through
the
window
,
wanting
to
curse
,
wanting
to
weep
.
It
could
never
be
the
same
again
,
and
that
was
a
tragedy
.
The
loss
of
the
dearest
friend
.
Betrayal
.
Empty
words
,
untrue
;
suddenly
she
knew
very
well
what
had
frightened
her
so
,
made
her
flee
from
Rain
as
if
he
had
attempted
murder
,
not
a
kiss
.
The
rightness
of
it
!
The
feeling
of
coming
home
,
when
she
did
n't
want
to
come
home
any
more
than
she
wanted
the
liability
of
love
.
Home
was
frustration
,
so
was
love
.
Not
only
that
,
even
if
the
admission
was
humiliating
;
she
was
n't
sure
she
could
love
.
If
she
was
capable
of
it
,
surely
once
or
twice
her
guard
would
have
slipped
;
surely
once
or
twice
she
would
have
experienced
a
pang
of
something
more
than
tolerant
affection
for
her
infrequent
lovers
.
It
did
n't
occur
to
her
that
she
deliberately
chose
lovers
who
would
never
threaten
her
self-imposed
detachment
,
so
much
a
part
of
herself
by
now
that
she
regarded
it
as
completely
natural
.
For
the
first
time
in
her
life
she
had
no
reference
point
to
assist
her
.
There
was
no
time
in
the
past
she
could
take
comfort
from
,
no
once-deep
involvement
,
either
for
herself
or
for
those
shadowy
lovers
.
Nor
could
the
Drogheda
people
help
,
because
she
had
always
withheld
herself
from
them
,
too
.
She
had
had
to
run
from
Rain
.
To
say
yes
,
commit
herself
to
him
,
and
then
have
to
watch
him
recoil
when
he
found
out
the
extent
of
her
inadequacy
?
Unbearable
!
He
would
learn
what
she
was
really
like
,
and
the
knowledge
would
kill
his
love
for
her
.
Unbearable
to
say
yes
,
and
end
in
being
rebuffed
for
all
time
.
Far
better
to
do
any
rebuffing
herself
.
That
way
at
least
pride
would
be
satisfied
,
and
Justine
owned
all
her
mother
's
pride
.
Rain
must
never
discover
what
she
was
like
beneath
all
that
brick
flippancy
.
