Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“All right.” Charley smiled unpleasantly. “That’s logical. Now that I think, there’s no reason why you should lend it to me. Well—” he shoved his hands into his coat pocket and throwing his head back slightly seemed to shake the subject off like a cap, “I won’t go to prison—and maybe you’ll feel differently about it tomorrow.”

“Don’t count on that.”

“Oh, I don’t mean I’ll ask you again. I mean something—quite different.”

He nodded his head, turned quickly and walking down the gravel path was swallowed up in the darkness. Where the path met the road Michael heard his footsteps cease as if he were hesitating. Then they turned down the road toward the station a mile away.

Michael sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He heard Marion come out of the door.

“I listened,” she whispered. “I couldn’t help it. I’m glad you didn’t lend him anything.”

She came close to him and would have sat down in his lap but an almost physical repulsion came over him and he got up quickly from his chair.