Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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But the words, the glance, subtle, pervasive and sweet, that she had planned, failed somehow to come.

“Oh, Scott,” she said in a low voice, “I’m so tired.”

“Tired of what?” he asked coolly.

“Of—everything.”

There was a silence.

“I’m afraid,” she said uncertainly—“I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep that date with you tomorrow.”

There was no pretense in her voice now. The emotion was apparent in the waver of each word, without intention or control.

“I’m going away.”

“Are you? Where?”

His tone showed a strong interest, but she winced as she saw that that was all.

“My aunt’s come back. She wants me to join her in Florida right away.”

“Isn’t this rather unexpected?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll be coming back soon?” he said after a moment.

“I don’t think so. I think we’ll go to Europe from—from New Orleans.”

“Oh!”

Again there was a pause. It lengthened. In the shadow of a moment it would become awkward, she knew. She had lost—well? Yet, she would go on to the end.

“Will you miss me?”

“Yes.”

One word. She caught his eyes, wondered for a moment if she saw more there than that kindly interest; then she dropped her own again.