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The Lovers :: Фармер Филип Хосе
Страница: 69 из 127I forgotyou wouldn't know how to make coffee.'
'No. No. It is the liquor I am thinking of. Alcohol, not coffee.'
'Alcohol? Great Sigmen, girl, we don't drink ! That'd be the most disgust–'
He stopped. She was hurt. He mastered himself. After all, she couldn't help it. She came from a different culture. She wasn't even, strictly speaking, all human.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's a religious matter. Forbidden.'
Tears filled her eyes. Her shoulders began to shake. She put her face into her hands and began to sob. 'You don't understand. I have to have it. I have to.'
'But why?'
She spoke from behind her fingers. 'Because during my imprisonment, I had little to do but entertain myself. My captors gave me liquor; it helped to pass the time and make me forget how utterly homesick I was. Before I knew it, I was an – an alcoholic'
Hal clenched his fists and growled, 'Those sons of... bugs!'
'So you see, I have to have a drink. It would make me feel better, just for the time being. And later, maybe later, I can try to overcome it. I know I can, if you'll help me.'
He gestured emptily. 'But – but where can I get you some?' His stomach revolted at the idea of trafficking in alcohol. But, if she needed it, he'd try his best to get it.
Swiftly, she said, 'Perhaps Fobo could give you some.'
'But Fobo was one of your captors! Won't he suspect something if I come asking for alcohol?'
'He'll think it's for you.'
'All right,' he said, somewhat sullenly, and at the same time guiltily because he was sullen. 'But I hate for anybody to think I drink. Even if he is just a wog.'
She came up to him and seemed to flow against him. Her lips pressed softly. Her body tried to pass through his. He held her for a minute and then took his mouth away.
'Do I have to leave you?' he whispered. 'Couldn't you pass up the liquor? Just for tonight? Tomorrow, I'll get you some.'
Her voice broke. 'Oh, maw namoo, I wish I could. How I wish I could. But I can't. I just can't. Believe me.'
'I believe you.'
He released her and walked into the front room, where he took a hood, cloak, and nightmask out of the closet. His head was bent; his shoulders sagged. Everything would be spoiled. He would not be able to get near her, not with her breath stinking of alcohol. And she'd probably wonder why he was cold, and he wouldn't have the nerve to tell her how revolting she was, because that would hurt her feelings. To make it worse, she'd be hurt anyway if he offered no explanation.
'No. No. It is the liquor I am thinking of. Alcohol, not coffee.'
'Alcohol? Great Sigmen, girl, we don't drink ! That'd be the most disgust–'
He stopped. She was hurt. He mastered himself. After all, she couldn't help it. She came from a different culture. She wasn't even, strictly speaking, all human.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's a religious matter. Forbidden.'
Tears filled her eyes. Her shoulders began to shake. She put her face into her hands and began to sob. 'You don't understand. I have to have it. I have to.'
'But why?'
She spoke from behind her fingers. 'Because during my imprisonment, I had little to do but entertain myself. My captors gave me liquor; it helped to pass the time and make me forget how utterly homesick I was. Before I knew it, I was an – an alcoholic'
Hal clenched his fists and growled, 'Those sons of... bugs!'
'So you see, I have to have a drink. It would make me feel better, just for the time being. And later, maybe later, I can try to overcome it. I know I can, if you'll help me.'
He gestured emptily. 'But – but where can I get you some?' His stomach revolted at the idea of trafficking in alcohol. But, if she needed it, he'd try his best to get it.
Swiftly, she said, 'Perhaps Fobo could give you some.'
'But Fobo was one of your captors! Won't he suspect something if I come asking for alcohol?'
'He'll think it's for you.'
'All right,' he said, somewhat sullenly, and at the same time guiltily because he was sullen. 'But I hate for anybody to think I drink. Even if he is just a wog.'
She came up to him and seemed to flow against him. Her lips pressed softly. Her body tried to pass through his. He held her for a minute and then took his mouth away.
'Do I have to leave you?' he whispered. 'Couldn't you pass up the liquor? Just for tonight? Tomorrow, I'll get you some.'
Her voice broke. 'Oh, maw namoo, I wish I could. How I wish I could. But I can't. I just can't. Believe me.'
'I believe you.'
He released her and walked into the front room, where he took a hood, cloak, and nightmask out of the closet. His head was bent; his shoulders sagged. Everything would be spoiled. He would not be able to get near her, not with her breath stinking of alcohol. And she'd probably wonder why he was cold, and he wouldn't have the nerve to tell her how revolting she was, because that would hurt her feelings. To make it worse, she'd be hurt anyway if he offered no explanation.