Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“No, sir,” admitted Rip Jones with a puzzled look; “I’ll have to think this over.”

But though he thought it over for the rest of the evening Rip Jones went to bed still uninspired. At midnight he got up, found a pencil and wrote out a list of all the good times he had ever had. But all his holidays now seemed unprofitable and stale, and when he fell asleep at five his mind still threshed disconsolately on the prospect of hollow useless hours.

Next morning as Lola Girard was backing her car out of the garage she saw him hurrying toward her over the lawn.

“Ride in town, Rip?” she asked cheerfully.

“I reckon so.”

“Why do you only reckon so? Father and the others left on the nine-o’clock train.”

He explained to her briefly that they had all temporarily lost their jobs and there was no necessity of getting to the office today.

“I’m kind of worried about it,” he said gravely. “I sure hate to leave my work. I’m going to run in this afternoon and see if they’ll let me finish up a few things I had started.”