Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter II
IwanttofightforsomePERSON—somebodybesidemyself.Understand?wanttofeelthatitisn’tallselfishness—thatthereareotherintereststhanmineinthegame—thatthere’ssomeonedependentonme,andthat’sthinkingofmeasI’mthinkingofthem—someoneIcancomehometoatnightandputmyarmaround—likethis,andhaveherputhertwoarmsaroundme—like—”Hepausedasecond,andonceagain,asithadbeeninthatmomentofimminentperil,whenhestoodwithhisarmaroundher,theireyesmet,—“puthertwoarmsaroundme,”promptedAnnixter,halfsmiling,“like—likewhat,Hilma?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Likewhat,Hilma?”heinsisted.
“Like—likethis?”shequestioned.Withamovementofinfinitetendernessandaffectionsheslidherarmsaroundhisneck,stillcryingalittle.
Thesensationofherwarmbodyinhisembrace,thefeelingofhersmooth,roundarm,throughthethinnessofhersleeve,pressingagainsthischeek,thrilledAnnixterwithadelightsuchashehadneverknown.Hebenthisheadandkissedheruponthenapeofherneck,wherethedelicateambertintmeltedintothethick,sweetsmellingmassofherdarkbrownhair.Sheshiveredalittle,holdinghimcloser,ashamedasyettolookup.Withoutspeech,theystoodthereforalongminute,holdingeachotherclose.ThenHilmapulledawayfromhim,moppinghertear-stainedcheekswiththelittlemoistballofherhandkerchief.
“Whatdoyousay?Isitago?”demandedAnnixterjovially.
