by Larry Niven
I'm not mad at you, dear. Nor at Kam, as far as that goes. You weren't deliberately playing games with me. You honestly believed you were serious—confusing horniness with love, which God knows is a common mistake—till the impulse itself overwhelmed you.
Or so he supposed. Nothing had been uttered, except in the silent language. They simply understood that everything was over. Apart from friendship. Already he hurt less than at first. He knew that before long he'd stop altogether and be able to meet her, be with her, in comradely fashion. Dorcas would see to it.
I do wish you'll find a man you can settle down with. I'd like you to have what we have. But if not, well, it's your life, and any style of living it that you choose will be brave.
Saxtorph had reached the third-floor landing when he heard the single pistol shot.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-d98f38-1a4d-8345-44a6-0391-2327-213a80
Document version: 1.2
Document creation date: 15.12.2010
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1.1 - частичная вычитка, KillerBeer, 20.07.2011
1.2 - вычитка, KillerBeer, 29.08.2011 (“Inconstant Star” по альтернативному источнику не сверялась)
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