Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн

607 страница из 776

“Of course, George.”

“I’m really delighted that you’re doing so well.”

“Thank you, George.”

But the next night when I was with Dawn, who happens to be a gorgeous redhead who could put Marge to shame on practically any field of battle except maybe brains, I kept thinking about Marge all evening long, and wondering if things weren’t getting just a little out of hand.

The next evening I almost tripped over George Prime coming out of a liquor store. I ducked quickly into an alley and flagged him. “What are you doing out on the street?”

He gave me my martyred look. “Just buying some bourbon. You were out.”

“But you’re not supposed to be off the premises—”

“Marge asked me to come. I couldn’t tell her I was sorry, but her husband wouldn’t let me, could I?”

“Well, certainly not—”

“You want me to keep her happy, don’t you? You don’t want her to get suspicious.”

“No, but suppose somebody saw us together! If she ever got a hint—”

“I’m sorry,” George Prime said contritely. “It seemed the right thing to do. You would have done it. At least that’s what my judgment center maintained. We had quite an argument.”