Читать книгу A Pure Clear Light - Madeleine John St. - Страница 13

‘If she’d got herself a bloke,’ said Simon, ‘the problem wouldn’t arise.’

‘Oh, Mother of God,’ said Flora, taking off her make-up. ‘If..’

‘What’s all this Mother of God racket we’ve been hearing lately?’ said Simon. He was lying in bed looking at a script.

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ said Flora.

‘Then I wish you’d knock it off,’ said Simon. ‘It’s making me nervous.’

‘Why should it do that?’

‘Well, since there’s no such being as God, it’s a bit too spooky by half to be hearing about the Mother of. Be reasonable.’

‘Ah,’ said Flora. ‘Reasonable. Raisonnable. Well, who are we to know what’s reasonable. Let alone raisonnable.’

‘The very people,’ said Simon. ‘That’s who.’

‘Us sinners,’ said Flora. ‘We sinners.’

‘Yes, that’s one of many possible appellations.’

‘It’s the most raisonnable.’

‘Listen, Flora,’ said Simon. ‘I married you for your looks, not your brains.’

‘I’m one seamless whole,’ said Flora. ‘Take it or leave it.’ She got into bed.

‘It’s too late even to talk about leaving it,’ said Simon. He turned off the lamp and held her in his arms, still lying on his back, and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’m stuck with it,’ he said.

‘Brains and all.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m doomed.’ Flora said a few Hail Marys to herself, and fell asleep. Simon disengaged his arms, and turned over, and, after a while, fell asleep too.