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Robert A. Heinlein - A Comedy Of Justice
Atec Февраль 27 2008 02:52:13
Книга только для ознакомления
. We didn't intend to go to sleep; we simply wanted to rest a bit before eating; it had been a long, hard day. We lay down on top of the bedspread.
I was just getting relaxed when I realized that something hard was pressing against my spine. I roused enough to figure out that our hoarded silver dollars had slipped out of my side pocket when I had turned over. So I eased my arm out from under Marga's head, retrieved the dollars, counted them, added the, loose change, and placed it all on the bedside table a foot from my head, then got horizontal again, slid my arm under Marga's head and fell right to sleep.
When I woke up it was pitch dark.
I came wide awake. Margrethe was still snoring softly on my arm. I shook her a little. 'Honey. Wake up.'
'Mrrf?'
'It's late. We may have missed dinner
She came quickly awake. 'Can you switch on the bed lamp?' '
I fumbled at the bedside table, nearly fell out of bed. 'Can't find the pesky thing. It's dark as the inside of a pile of coal.' Wait a sec, I'll get the overhead light.'
I got cautiously off the bed, headed for the door, stumbled over a chair, could not find the door - groped for it, did find it, groped some more and found a light. switch by it. The overhead light came on.
For a long, dismal moment neither of us said anything. Then I said, inanely and unnecessarily, 'They did it again.'
The room had the characterless anonymity of any cheap motel room anywhere
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