"Zelazny, Roger - Angel, Dark Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

“How good?” she asked him.

“They don’t come much better.”

“Catch,” she said, and picked up a marble figurine from off an inlaid table and hurled it toward him.

He caught it, fumbling, and set it on the ledge at his side.

“Your reflexes are good,” she replied. “Very well, I’ll play with you.”

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

“Why?”

“Why not? I don’t know anyone here.”

“All right. Eight o’clock.”

“I’ll pick you up then.”

“Till then.”

“Till then.”

He turned, and headed back toward the town and his hotel.

Of course, they took the tournament. They won hands down. And Stain and Galatea danced that night and drank champagne, and she asked him as he held her, both of them all in black, “What do you do, Stain?”

“Nothing but enjoy myself,” he said. “I’m retired.”

“In your thirties?”

“Thirty-two.”

She sighed and softened within his arms.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I, too, am retired. I enjoy my hobbies. I do as I would.”

“What does that come to?”

“Whatever I please.”

“I’ve brought you a Hylagian orchid to wear in your hair, or anywhere else you may choose. I’ll give it to you when we return to the table.”

“They’re very expensive,” she said.

“Not so if you raise them yourself.”