Читать книгу Heathcliff Redux - Lily Tuck - Страница 48

Nelly, my Norwich terrier, for an inexplicable reason liked Cliff. Each time he came to the house, she ran over to him, her stump of a tail wagging so hard I half expected it to fall off as he bent down to pat her. He made a big fuss over her. Then, still more inexplicably, she followed him into the living room.

“Nelly!” I called out to her. “Come. Come here,” I commanded.

She paid no attention.

I think I heard Cliff laugh.

“Little whore,” I muttered under my breath.