"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 02 - Derai" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

"Well be moving on soon," said the girl. "The Festival's almost
over. Elgar's the next stop. Know it?"

"No."

"A lousy dump," she said dispassionately. "Then Gerath, then
Segelt, then Folgone. That's a weird one," she mused. "Real
weird. You coming with us?"

"No." Dumarest reached for a towel. She handed it to him.

"You could do worse," she suggested. "Aiken likes you. And,"
she added meaningfully, "so do I."

Dumarest busied himself with the towel.

"We'd make a fine couple," she said. "I'm all the woman you
could ever use and you're all the man I'll ever want. We'd get
along fine." She caught the towel he threw toward her and
watched him dress. "What do you say, Earl?"

"It wouldn't work," he said. "I like to keep moving."

"Why?" she demanded. "You're looking for something," she
decided. "That or you're running away from something. Which is
it, Earl?"

"Neither," he said.

"Then—?"

"No," he said. And left her standing alone.

***
Aiken lived in a blocked-off portion at the rear of the tent,
living, eating and sleeping on the premises of his concession. The
proprietor was a small, round, pudgy man with a tendency to
sweat. He looked up from the upended crate he used as a desk
and hastily slammed the lid of a cash box. "Earl!" He twisted his
face into a smile. "It's good to see you, boy. Something on your
mind?"

"My share," said Dumarest. "I want it."

"Sure." Aiken began to sweat. "Your share."

"That's right." Dumarest stood to one side of the rough desk
looking down at the little man. "You've had time to count it out,"
he said. "If you haven't I know just how much it should be. Want
me to tell you?"