Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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Eleanor smiled and kneeling down beside him lit the match and ran it along the edge of the paper that undermined the logs. She twisted her head to read it as it curled up in black at the corners. “August 14th, 1915. Zeppelin raid in—there it goes,” as it disappeared in little licking flames. “My little sister—you remember Katherine: Kitty, the one with the yellow hair and the little lisp—she was killed by one of those things—she and a governess, that summer.”

“Little Kitty,” he said sadly. “A lot of children were killed I know, a lot. I didn’t know she was gone.” He was far away now and a set look had come into his eyes. She hastened to change the subject.

“Lots—but we’re not on death tonight. We’re going to pretend we’re happy. Do you see?” She patted his knee reprovingly. “We are happy. We are! Why you were almost whimsical a while ago. I believe you’re a sentimentalist. Are you?”

He was still gazing absently at the fire but he looked up at this.

“Tonight, I am—almost—for the first time in my life. Are you, Eleanor?”