Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 17
Thegodssaveus,itisamad-house.Lodbrog,Ilittlethoughtitofyou.Yethereyouare,spoutingandfumingaswildlyasanymadmanfromthedesertaboutwhatshallhappentoyouwhenyouaredead.Onelifeatatime,Lodbrog.Itsavestrouble.Itsavestrouble.”
“Goon,Miriam,goon,”hiswifecried.
Shehadsatentrancedduringthediscussion,withhandstightlyclasped,andthethoughtflickeredupinmymindthatshehadalreadybeencorruptedbythereligiousfollyofJerusalem.Atanyrate,asIwastolearninthedaysthatfollowed,shewasundulybentuponsuchmatters.Shewasathinwoman,asifwastedbyfever.Herskinwastight-stretched.AlmostitseemedIcouldlookthroughherhandsdidsheholdthembetweenmeandthelight.Shewasagoodwoman,buthighlynervous,and,attimes,fancy-flightedaboutshadesandsignsandomens.Norwassheaboveseeingvisionsandhearingvoices.Asforme,Ihadnopatiencewithsuchweaknesses.Yetwassheagoodwomanwithnoheartofevil.
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IwasonamissionforTiberius,anditwasmyilllucktoseelittleofMiriam.OnmyreturnfromthecourtofAntipasshehadgoneintoBatanæatoPhilip’scourt,wherewashersister.OnceagainIwasbackinJerusalem,and,thoughitwasnonecessityofmybusinesstoseePhilip,who,thoughweak,wasfaithfultoRomanwill,IjourneyedintoBatanæainthehopeofmeetingwithMiriam.
