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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 426/535
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Justine
wriggled
out
of
Electra
's
robe
,
flung
a
thin
cotton
dress
over
her
head
,
remembered
it
was
chilly
outside
,
added
a
cardigan
,
and
patted
Martha
kindly
on
the
head
.
"
Do
n't
worry
about
it
,
sweetie
.
God
was
very
good
to
you
;
he
did
n't
give
you
any
brains
.
Believe
me
,
it
's
far
more
comfortable
that
way
.
You
'll
never
offer
the
Lords
of
Creation
any
competition
.
"
"
I
do
n't
know
,
I
would
n't
mind
competing
with
God
for
your
brother
.
"
"
Forget
it
.
You
're
fighting
the
Establishment
,
and
it
just
ca
n't
be
done
.
You
'd
seduce
Sweet
Willie
far
quicker
,
take
my
word
for
it
.
"
*
*
*
A
Vatican
car
met
Dane
at
the
airport
,
whisked
him
through
sunny
faded
streets
full
of
handsome
,
smiling
people
;
he
glued
his
nose
to
the
window
and
drank
it
all
in
,
unbearably
excited
at
seeing
for
himself
the
things
he
had
seen
only
in
pictures
--
the
Roman
columns
,
the
rococo
palaces
,
the
Renaissance
glory
of
Saint
Peter
's
.
And
waiting
for
him
,
clad
this
time
in
scarlet
from
head
to
foot
,
was
Ralph
Raoul
,
Cardinal
de
Bricassart
.
The
hand
was
outstretched
,
its
ring
glowing
;
Dane
sank
on
both
knees
to
kiss
it
.
"
Stand
up
,
Dane
,
let
me
look
at
you
.
"
He
stood
,
smiling
at
the
tall
man
who
was
almost
exactly
his
own
height
;
they
could
look
each
other
in
the
eye
.
To
Dane
the
Cardinal
had
an
immense
aura
of
spiritual
power
which
made
him
think
of
a
pope
rather
than
a
saint
,
yet
those
intensely
sad
eyes
were
not
the
eyes
of
a
pope
.
How
much
he
must
have
suffered
to
appear
so
,
but
how
nobly
he
must
have
risen
above
his
suffering
to
become
this
most
perfect
of
priests
.
And
Cardinal
Ralph
gazed
at
the
son
he
did
not
know
was
his
son
,
loving
him
,
he
thought
,
because
he
was
dear
Meggie
's
boy
.
Just
so
would
he
have
wanted
to
see
a
son
of
his
own
body
;
as
tall
,
as
strikingly
good-looking
,
as
graceful
.
In
all
his
life
he
had
never
seen
a
man
move
so
well
.
But
far
more
satisfying
than
any
physical
beauty
was
the
simple
beauty
of
his
soul
.
He
had
the
strength
of
the
angels
,
and
something
of
their
unearthliness
.
Had
he
been
so
himself
,
at
eighteen
?
He
tried
to
remember
,
span
the
crowded
events
of
threefifths
of
a
lifetime
;
no
,
he
had
never
been
so
.
Was
it
because
this
one
came
truly
of
his
own
choice
?
For
he
himself
had
not
,
though
he
had
had
the
vocation
,
of
that
much
he
still
was
sure
.
