"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 20 - Web of Sand" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

the point. Later, perhaps, when his interest had waned and she
annoyed him too much with her stubborn independence, but not
now. Now it pleased him to be gracious, acting the sophisticate,
crossing the room with casual indifference to pour wine from a
crystal decanter into goblets engraved with interwound figures of
classical proportions.
 "The storm," he said gently. "Always you are like this during a
storm. And yet your very anger accentuates your loveliness. And
I? I cannot help but to respond."

"You flatter me, Yunus."

"When has truth ever been flattery?" Smiling, he handed her
one of the goblets. "Come, let us drink to a cessation of hostilities
between us. To your beauty, my dear! May it never wane!"

A toast in which she could join—God help her should she ever
grow ugly. The thought of it made her swallow the wine, feeling
its warm comfort as it ran down her throat to blossom in her
stomach. His smile grew wider as she handed him the empty
container.

"More?"

"No." She touched her throat, long fingers caressing the
larynx, the silken sheen of the skin. "If I am to perform I must
stay in condition. I assume you want me to perform?"

"Of course. But—"

"Don't be tiresome, Yunus. Your generosity has bought my
voice not the use of my body." She saw the sudden tension of
muscle at the edge of his jaw, the tautening of the skin over the
knuckles of the hand which held his goblet. Quickly she added,
"I'm sorry. The wine, the storm—please forgive me!"

For a moment she thought that, this time, she had gone too
far, and cursed herself for her stupidity. To have called such a
man tiresome! The insult was enough for him to take a vicious
revenge. To have her taken and stripped and staked out on the
sand. To let the wind-driven dust flay her alive. To turn the
beauty he professed to admire into a shrieking nightmare of
bloody horror.

Why had she been such a fool?

"You will forgive me, Yunus?" Then, as he made no answer,
she continued, "Where do you wish me to sing? Here? At a
private assembly? In public?"