"Charles L. Harness - The Rose" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

But now the man threw back his head and laughed raucously. "You ought to see a psychiatrist!"

Anna bowed her head humbly.

"Oh, don't take it too hard," he said. "My wife's even after me to see a psychiatrist."

"Really?" Anna was suddenly alert. "What seems to be wrong with you? I mean, what does she object
to?"

"In general, my laziness. In particular, it seems I've forgotten how to read and write." He gave her
widening eyes a sidelong look. "I'm a perfect parasite, too. Haven't done any real work in months. What
would you call it if you couldn't work until you had the final measures of the Rose, and you kept waiting,
and nothing happened?"

"Hell."

He was glumly silent.

Anna asked, hesitantly, yet with a growing certainty. "This thing you're waiting for...might it have anything
to do with the ballet? Or to phrase it from your point of view, do you think the completion of my ballet
may help answer your problem?"

"Might. Couldn't say."

She continued quietly. "You're going to have to face it eventually, you know. Your psychiatrist is going to
ask you. How will you answer?"
"I won't. I'll tell him to go to the devil."

"How can you be so sure he's a he?"

"Oh? Well, if he's a she, she might be willing to pose al fresco an hour or so. The model shortage is quite
grave you know, with all of the little dears trying to be painters."

"But if she doesn't have a good figure?"

"Well, maybe her face has some interesting possibilities. It's a rare woman who's a total physical loss."

Anna's voice was very low. "But what if all of her were very ugly? What if your proposed psychiatrist
were me, Mr. Ruy Jacques?"

His great dark eyes blinked, then his lips pursed and exploded into insane laughter. He stood up
suddenly. "Come, my dear, whatever your name is, and let the blind lead the blind."

"Anna van Tuyl," she told him, smiling.

She took his arm. Together they strolled around the arc of the walk toward the entrance arch.

She was filled with a strange contentment.