"Robert A. Heinlein - The unpleasant profession of Johathan Ho" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

out the door of an underground train while another crowd attempted to force its way in.
Getting on or getting off, they were plainly in a hurry, yet it seemed to give them no
pleasure. The picture had no beauty in itself; it was plain that the artist's single purpose
had been to make a bitter criticism of a way of living.
She was glad when the show was over and they could escape to the comparative
freedom of the street. Randall flagged a taxi and they started home.
"Teddy -- "
"Uh?"
"Did you notice the faces of the people in the theater?"
"No, not especially. Why?"
"Not a one of them looked as if they got any fun out of life."
"Maybe they don't."
"But why don't they? Look -- we have fun, don't we?"
"You bet."
"We always have fun. Even when we were broke and trying to get the business
started we had fun. We went to bed smiling and got up happy. We still do. What's the
answer?"
 He smiled for the first time since the search for the thirteenth floor and pinched
her. "It's fun living with you, kid."
"Thanks. And right back at you. You know, when I was a little girl, I had a funny
idea."
"Spill it."
"I was happy myself, but as I grew up I could see that my mother wasn't. And my
father wasn't. My teachers weren't -- most of the adults around me weren't happy. I got an
idea in my head that when you grew up you found out something that kept you from ever
being happy again. You know how a kid is treated: 'You're not old enough to understand,
dear,' and 'Wait till you grow up, darling, and then you'll understand.' I used to wonder
what the secret was they were keeping from me and I'd listen behind doors to try and see
if I couldn't find out."
"Born to be a detective!"
"Shush. But I could see that, whatever it was, it didn't make the grown-ups happy;
it made 'em sad. Then I used to pray never to find out." She gave a little shrug. "I guess I
never did."
He chuckled. "Me neither. A professional Peter Pan, that's me. Just as happy as if
I had good sense."
She placed a small gloved hand on his arm. "Don't laugh, Teddy. That's what
scares me about this Hoag case. I'm afraid that if we go ahead with it we really will find
out what it is the grown-ups know. And then we'll never laugh again."
He started to laugh, then looked at her hard. "Why, you're really serious, aren't
you?" He chucked her under the chin. "Be your age, kid. What you need is dinner -- and a
drink."


IV

After dinner, Cynthia was just composing in her mind what she would say to Mr.
Hoag on telephoning him when the house buzzer rang. She went to the entrance of their
apartment and took up the house phone. "Yes?"
Almost immediately she turned to her husband and voicelessly shaped the words,
"It's Mr. Hoag." He raised his brows, put a cautioning finger to his lips, and with an