-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Колин Маккалоу
-
- Поющие в терновнике
-
- Стр. 531/535
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Saying
goodbye
to
Rain
in
a
letter
,
devastated
by
grief
and
shock
,
had
been
easy
;
in
fact
enjoyable
in
a
cruel
way
,
for
she
had
lashed
back
then
--
I
'm
in
agony
,
so
ought
you
to
be
.
But
this
time
Rain
had
n't
put
himself
in
a
position
where
a
Dear
John
letter
was
possible
.
It
had
to
be
dinner
at
their
favorite
restaurant
.
He
had
n't
suggested
his
Park
Lane
house
,
which
disappointed
but
did
n't
surprise
her
.
No
doubt
he
intended
saying
even
his
final
goodbyes
under
the
benign
gaze
of
Fritz
.
Certainly
he
was
n't
taking
any
chances
.
For
once
in
her
life
she
took
care
that
her
appearance
should
please
him
;
the
imp
which
usually
prodded
her
into
orange
frills
seemed
to
have
retired
cursing
.
Since
Rain
liked
unadorned
styles
,
she
put
on
a
floor-length
silk
jersey
dress
of
dull
burgundy
red
,
high
to
the
neck
,
long
tight
sleeves
.
She
added
a
big
flat
collar
of
tortuous
gold
studded
with
garnets
and
pearls
,
and
matching
bracelets
on
each
wrist
.
What
horrible
,
horrible
hair
.
It
was
never
disciplined
enough
to
suit
him
.
More
makeup
than
normal
,
to
conceal
the
evidence
of
her
depression
.
There
.
She
would
do
if
he
did
n't
look
too
closely
.
He
did
n't
seem
to
;
at
least
he
did
n't
comment
upon
weariness
or
possible
illness
,
even
made
no
reference
to
the
exigencies
of
packing
.
Which
was
n't
a
bit
like
him
.
And
after
a
while
she
began
to
experience
a
sensation
that
the
world
must
be
ending
,
so
different
was
he
from
his
usual
self
.
He
would
n't
help
her
make
the
dinner
a
success
,
the
sort
of
affair
they
could
refer
to
in
letters
with
reminiscent
pleasure
and
amusement
.
If
she
could
only
have
persuaded
herself
that
he
was
simply
upset
at
her
going
,
it
might
have
been
all
right
.
But
she
could
n't
.
His
mood
just
was
n't
that
sort
.
Rather
,
he
was
so
distant
she
felt
as
if
she
were
sitting
with
a
paper
effigy
,
one-dimensional
and
anxious
to
be
off
floating
in
the
breeze
,
far
from
her
ken
.
As
if
he
had
said
goodbye
to
her
already
,
and
this
meeting
was
a
superfluity
.
"
Have
you
had
a
letter
from
your
mother
yet
?
"
he
asked
politely
.
"
No
,
but
I
do
n't
honestly
expect
one
.
She
's
probably
bereft
of
words
.
"
"
Would
you
like
Fritz
to
take
you
to
the
airport
tomorrow
?
"
"
Thanks
,
I
can
catch
a
cab
,
"
she
answered
ungraciously
.
"
I
would
n't
want
you
to
be
deprived
of
his
services
.
"
