Gender Readings. Top Ten. Ренц Т.Г - 50 стр.

dren”. Her students were mostly under ten and she kept an asthmatic
chow who was often sick on the rug.
       “I won’t go to Mrs Murchison!” I shouted. “I’ve outgrown her.”
“Let’s be sensible about this,” said my father. “Calm down, Janie.” I
stuck my fork into a potato to keep from crying and muttered melodra-
matically that I would hang myself before I’d go back to Mrs Murchison.
       The lessons continued. At night I practised quietly, and from
time to time my mother would look up and say, “That’s nice, dear.”
Mr Parker had given me a Three-Part Invention, and I worked on it
as if it were granite. It was the most complicated piece of music I had
ever played, and I learned it with a sense of loss; since I didn’t know
when the axe would fall, I thought it might be the last piece of music
I would ever learn from Mr Parker.
       The lessons went on and nothing was said, but when I came
home after them my mother and I faced each other with division
and coldness. Mr Parker bought a kitten called Mildred to keep him
company in the house. When we had our cookies and lemonade,
Mildred got a saucer of milk.
       At night, I was grilled by my mother as we washed the dishes. I
found her sudden interest in the events of my day unnerving. She was
systematic, beginning with my morning classes, ending in the after-
noon. In the light of her intense focus, everything seemed wrong.
Then she said, with arch sweetness, “And how is Mr Parker, dear?”
       “Fine.”
       “And how are the lessons going?”
       “Fine.”
       “And how is the house now that Mrs Parker’s gone?”
       “It’s the same. Mr Parker bought a kitten.” As I said it, I knew
it was betrayàl.
       “What kind of kitten?”
       “A sort of pink one.”
       “What’s it name?”
       “It doesn’t have one,” I said.
       One night she said, “Does Mr Parker drink?”
       “He drinks lemonade.”
       “I only asked because it must be so hard for him,” she said in
an offended voice. “He must be very sad.”
       “He doesn’t seem all that sad to me.” It was the wrong thing to
say. “I see,” she said, folding the dish-towel with elaborate care. “You

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