Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“Never, never!” she went on, shaking her head passionately. “Never, never, never! When I thought of it I began to tremble all over, right in my bed.” She hesitated. “I don’t know what came over me yesterday evening, John. When I’m with you, you can always make me do or feel or think just exactly what you like. But this is too late, I guess. It doesn’t seem real at all; it just seems sort of crazy to me, as if I’d dreamed it, that’s all.”

John Jackson laughed again, not incredulously this time, but on a menacing note.

“What do you mean?” he demanded.

She began to cry and hid her eyes behind her hand because some people were passing along the road.

“You’ve got to tell me more than that,” cried John Jackson, his voice rising a little. “I can’t just take that and go away.”

“Please don’t talk so loud,” she implored him. “It’s so hot and I’m so confused. I guess I’m just a small-town woman, after all. It seems somehow awful to be talking here with you, when my husband’s working all day in the dust and heat.”