"anthony,_piers_&_farmer,_philip_jose_-_the_caterpillars_question" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farmer Phillip Jose)

He withdrew, excited. So what if she was muttering about some
television program she had overheard? She could talk!

Next day they toured the great Green Mountains, the car's little engine
laboring in a lower gear to manage the steep ascents. That was all
right; he was no longer in a hurry, and they could proceed as slowly as
they wanted. He continued to call out the view, and though Tappy did
not turn her face to him again, he could tell by her alertness that she
was interested.

He spoke of the old elms and maples, the mossy rocks, the near and
distant mountain slopes covered with green foliage like thickly woven
rugs. They passed a ski run-a long bare swath running Up the side of
one of the higher peaks, resembling a scar.

And she was crying again, in her silent way. The scar-why hadn't he
kept his brain connected enough to stifle that analogy before it was
spoken! His description lapsed; he couldn't think of any apology that
would not hurt her more.

He understood now that her passive attitude concealed an extremely
sensitive nature. Yet perhaps there was a positive --.-aspect, for at
least she was now showing her emotion. He : had spoken to her, and
gained her interest, thereby making her vulnerable. If he could hurt
her, could he not also help her, if he found the right words?

They should have passed on through the Green Mountains and headed for
New Hampshire, but Tappy seemed to be coming alive.

Her head turned to the north, and her blind eyes became round.

What was she trying to see? Jack remembered her words of the night, and
decided to learn more of this if he could. He brought the car about,
returned to the last intersection, and turned north.

Tappy's head now faced straight ahead; there was no doubt she was
orienting on something, and it was independent of the motion of the car.
What could it be?

He followed the direction of her gaze until it turned to the side.

There was now no road where she looked, but her excitement suggested
that the thing was fairly close.

At noon he pulled into a motel consisting of a row of ramshackle cabins.
He thought it was deserted, and he only intended to search for some
fresh water for lunch, and perhaps to see exactly \%,here Tappy's
fascination lay. But presently a man ambled out.

He was dressed in high-fronted jeans, a style Jack had thought only