Sixes. Another throw. Again six. How could he do it, the young man did not know himself. But a dull thud of dices calmed him.
He returned to the house, strolling through the streets all day, but did not dare enter it. He sat in the summer-house, threw dices and waited for the night to come to take clothes from the house and leave. He could have fled without all this, but the sweater and hat were his kind of protection. And he waited.
— And why are you sitting here? — he heard Object’s voice and sighed heavily. He did not want to continue to quarrel with her. To live side by side, almost like a bomb — too.
— I’m just sitting, — he answered. — I’m waiting.*What else do you need from me, Object? The house lights up, which means that Reth does not sleep. As soon as she falls asleep, I’ll take my things and leave. She said — until the first fight and I know that it was not a joke. I do not want to leave Reth, but I do not want to complicate her life with my quarrels with you, Object. I hope you’ll be happy, you stupid bitch. *
Object silently took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit, looking at the slowly rising smoke. Gambler started throwing dice again.
For a while they sat in silence, and then Object angrily extinguished the cigarette and left:
— Shit with you, come to my room, we need to talk.
Howondaland 