Classics of a fantasy. A. Belyaev
Age kind old England of times
the Queen Victoria to whom the lady was a little similar and which
tried to imitate.
The old mansion in West End, against the Hyde park, lady Hinton
turned into fortress – “my house – my fortress”, – in which wanted
to sit out from time pressure. The twentieth century had to come to an end on
threshold. Here everything, beginning from heavy furniture and finishing vital
way and etiquette, was antiquated and pradedovsky times.
Lady Hinton even did not open tightly the closed double glazing in the summer and
forced to lower heavy curtains on windows not to see crowd
the excited people passing in the Hyde park – the favourite place for
meetings. But voices and songs, rumble, and sometimes and dry crash of shots
got through thick walls. At its canneries – inheritance
the second husband – workers striked, and it had to conduct unpleasant
talk with the managing director. To its Fife-au-shreds a political talk was
are expelled as a sign of bad form. And nevertheless it is frequent behind these ceremonious
tea drinking political debates erupted.
Time has come, time conducted the correct siege of the mansion which took cover for
lattice, under old chestnuts and elms.
Time rushed a street rumble, the concerning talk, terrible
news. Neither old servants, nor thick walls, nor double glazing, nor curtains
did not save from time impact.
At lady Hinton the real mania of prosecution began. And
time was a persecutor, the enemy, the murderer…
– Read, Ellen.
But it was not necessary to continue reading. Hours slowly, deafly, as if blows
them reached from a far tower, punched five.
In the doorway silently the old footman in a gray livery with braids appeared.
Deaf aged voice respectfully reported:
– Doctor Mr. Teker.
Lady Hinton frowned. On Thursdays – put Fife-au-shred – house
the doctor had to be at four hours forty five minutes to end
evening visit before arrival of guests. Today the doctor was late for whole
fifteen minutes.
– Ask.
Because of a door the close-cut head with turning gray seemed
temples, then also all figure of the doctor – in black carefully promoted,
tightly the clasped frock coat. A frock coat instead of traditional evening
tuxedo! Lady Hinton forgave such violation of etiquette Tekera only
because he was “the person of other circle”, besides the foreigner, fine
doctor, “victim and refugee of time”. In the homeland he did not get on with “spirit
modern times” which was given for there “true spirit ancient”.
Teker’s face was confused and joyful and uneasy. About ostentatious
confidence it passed space from a door to a tronopodobny chair,
welcomed lady Hinton respectful bow and it is careful as fragile
jewelry, took a thick hand of the patient to probe pulse.
– Said to me that doctors differ in punctuality, and German in
features! – viscously lady Hinton told.
– . Sixty six., sixty seven… – the Ticker counted blows
pulse, looking at a second hand of the pocket watch – Pulse normal.
Forgive, the lady. House circumstances detained me. My wife.,
it was resolved from a burden. Boy. – And Teker’s eyes flashed joy.
– I congratulate, – lady Hinton silently told. – The doctor accepted? At
your wife, so there were two doctors. And at me the attack was nearly played
liver… Medical ethics, however, always for me were unclear.
The ticker shifted from one foot to the other. Internally he was enraged, but
constrained itself, having remembered the newborn: new duties of the father, new
responsibility…
Having set the patient several questions, Teker wanted to leave. But at the lady
Hinton already was on call women’s revenge.
– I hope, the doctor, you will not refuse to remain to Fife-au-shred?
My old friends will gather, – she told with a smile hospitable
hostesses.
The ticker shortly sighed, bowed and took seat on a chair with such look,
as if it was the hot brazier. There came silence.
To interrupt a burdensome pause, the captive of artful hospitality
started talking:
– I read in the newspaper: somehow at the London economic school acted
famous writer. He addressed listeners with such speech:
“Many of the young people sitting here will be killed, others are suffocated
gases, the third will die of hunger. World accident approaches.
The civilization perishes, and there is no exit. It is necessary unless to construct an ark
like Noyev…”
Lady Hinton omitted embroidery on knees. She turned pale, eyes
sparkled anger.
– Spare nerves of your patient, Mr. Teker! The servant entered:
– His Excellency baron Marshal de Terlonzh and his excellency
commerce adviser Mr. Stormer.
Displeasure was replaced on a face of lady Hinton by a habitual mask
courtesies.
Marshal de Terlonzh, the French banker with shadowy past entered,
the title of the baron which profited in the war and bought. To it was under fifty, but
it looked a perfect wreck. Together with it appeared broad-shouldered,
the strong old man with a red face of the butcher. The baron проковылял to a chair,
kissed a hand of the hostess and, strongly stammering, told:
– Allow, e-e-e., to present my kkompanion and Mr. friend
St… St… St…
– Stormer! – the fat man banged, stretching to the shuddered hostess
the spread wide thick fingers.
– His Eminence bishop! – the footman announced.
The bishop Iov Weller, the stout, healthy man with thoroughbred entered
ruddy face. His radiant eyes and juicy lips smiled.
After the bishop professor of philosophy Shnirer seemed. It
puzzly looked round around as if got at the wrong door, smiled as
the