Trojan Horse Laugh

Начало книги

“Like honey on a slow fire,” Joe Morgan said in a mildly nauseated tone. “Where’ll earth they get babes with those voices?”

Sadie Barnum, beside him on the front seat of Joe’s vast and asthmatic monster of an automobile, grinned in the darkness, crooned low in a throat, singing an almost perfect imitation of the radio commercial. “...and groove yourself, kid.”

“Oh, no!” said Joe. “No!”

The car was in the park above the city, nuzzling the stone wait cheek and jowl with the newer and shinier models on either side. The commercial had originally come from the radio in the car on their left.

Below them, the lights of the city of Daylon made it a very nice looking night indeed.

“You could turn my overpowering love to hate, Barnum,” Joe said. “Let us get back to what we came for.” He reached for her.

Sadie, her jaw set, fended him off deftly. She had turned so that the dim light touched her face. It was a small, alert, vital face, some of the force of it stolen by eyes that were big and sea-gray and an invitation to drown quietly.

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