"Seond Inquisition by Joanna Russ" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nebula Award Stories 6)

book in the bedclothes when I was through. When I slept, I dreamed of
Hispano-Suizas, of shingled hair and tragic eyes; of women with
painted lips who had Affairs, who went night after night with Jews to
low drives, who lived as they pleased, who had miscarriages in
expensive Swiss clinics; of midnight swims, of desperation, .of money,
of illicit love, of a beautiful Englishman and getting into a taxi with him
while wearing a cloth-of-silver cloak and a silver turban like the ones
shown in the society pages of the New York City newspapers.

Unfortunately our guest's face kept recurring in my dream, and because
I could not make out whether she was amused or bitter or very much
of bath, it really spoiled everything.

My mother discovered the book the next morning. I found it next to
my plate at breakfast. Neither my mother

nor my father made any remark about it; only my mother kept putting
out the breakfast things with a kind of tender, reluctant smile. We all
sat down, finally, when she had put out everything, and my farther
helped me to rolls and eggs and ham. Then he took off his glasses and
folded them next to his plate. He leaned back in his chair and crossed
his legs. Then he looked at the book and said in a tone of mock
surprise, "Well! What's this?"

I didn't say anything. I only looked at my plate.

"I believe I've seen this before," he said. "Yes, I believe I have." Then
he asked my mother, "Have you, seen this before?" My mother made a
kind of vague movement with her head. She had begun to butter some
toast and was putting it on my plate. I knew she was not supposed to
discipline me; only my father was. "Eat your egg," she said. My father,
who had continued to look at The Green Hat: A Romance with the
same expression of unvarying surprise, finally said:

"Well! This isn't a very pleasant thing to find on a Saturday morning, is
it?"

I still didn't say anything, only looked -at my food. I heard my mother
say worriedly, "She's not eating, Ben," and my father put his hand on
the back of my chair so I couldn't push it away from the .table, as I
was trying .to do.

"Of course you have an explanation for this,'." he said. "Don't you?"

I said nothing.

"Of course she does," he said, "doesn't she, Bess? You wouldn't hurt
your mother like this. You wouldn't hurt your mother by stealing a
book that you knew you weren't supposed to read and for very good
reason, too. You know we don't punish you. We talk things over with