"Трумэн Капоте. The grass harp (Луговая арфа, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

out on Saturday nights. What he wanted was a package of Shadows, but I
wasn't sure what Shadows were, so he had to come behind the counter and get
them out of the drawer himself; and he laughed, not unkindly, though it was
worse than if it had been: now he knew I was a fool, we would never be
friends.
Dolly said, "Have a piece of cake, Riley," and he asked did we always
have picnics this early in the day? then went on to say he considered it a
fine idea: "Like swimming at night," he said. "I come down here while it's
still dark, and go swimming in the river. Next time you have a picnic, call
out so I'll know you're here."
"You are welcome any morning," said Dolly, raising her veil. "I daresay
we will be here for some while."
Riley must have thought it a curious invitation, but he did not say so.
He produced a package of cigarettes and passed it around; when Catherine
took one. Dolly said: "Catherine Creek, you've never touched tobacco in your
life." Catherine allowed as to how she may have been missing something: "It
must be a comfort, so many folks speak in its favor; and Dolly-heart, when
you get to be our age you've got to look for comforts." Dolly bit her lip;
"Well, I don't suppose there's any harm," she said, and accepted a cigarette
herself.
There are two things that will drive a boy crazy (according to Mr.
Hand, who caught me smoking in the lavatory at school) and I'd given up one
of them, cigarettes, two years before: not because I thought it would make
me crazy, but because I thought it was imperiling my growth. Actually, now
that I was a normal size, Riley was no taller than me, though he seemed to
be, for he moved with the drawn-out cowboy awkwardness of a lanky man. So I
took a cigarette, and Dolly, gushing un-inhaled smoke, said she thought we
might as well all be sick together; but no one was sick, and Catherine said
next time she would like to try a pipe, as they smelled so good. Whereupon
Dolly volunteered the surprising fact that Verena smoked a pipe, something
I'd never known: "I don't know whether she does any more, but she used to
have a pipe and a can of Prince Albert with half an apple cut up in it. But
you musnt tell that," she added, suddenly aware of Riley, who laughed aloud.
Usually, glimpsed on the street or seen passing in his car, Riley wore
a tense, trigger-tempered expression; but there in the China tree he seemed
relaxed: frequent smiles enriched his whole face, as though he wanted at
least to be friendly, if not friends. Dolly, for her part, appeared to be at
ease and enjoying his company. Certainly she was not afraid of him: perhaps
it was because we were in the tree-house, and the tree-house was her own.
"Thank you for the squirrels, sir," she said, as he prepared to leave.
"And don't forget to come again."
He swung himself to the ground. "Want a ride? My car's up by the
cemetery."
Dolly told him: "That's kind of you; but really we haven't any place to
go."
Grinning, he lifted his gun and aimed it at us; and Catherine yelled:
You ought to be whipped, boy; but he laughed and waved and ran, his bird dog
barking, booming ahead. Dolly said gaily, "Let's have a cigarette," for the
package had been left behind.
By the time Riley reached town the news was roaring in the air like a