Classics of a fantasy. A. Belyaev

Classics of a fantasy - A. Belyaev


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kerosene kitchens” is, of course, not so

      poetically, as your star sonatas, but is more practical.

      – Vinkler, – Zander with emotion told, rising and stretching

      hand, – friends are learned in misfortune. Your loving kindness…

      Vinkler strong shook hands Zander and, smiling, interrupted his outpourings:

      – Heart and other internals is perfect at anything here,

      mister Zander. Me only calculation, though not personal directs

      character. I believe, this explanation is enough that you in any

      degrees did not consider themselves obliged?

      In a lobby the call was distributed.

      Vinkler left, and in a minute on a threshold of an office high appeared

      the slender person of years of thirty in a gray road suit.

      – It is possible to enter?

      – Sir Henry! – Zander exclaimed. – I am glad to see you.

      – Hello, dear Zander. Forgive for a late visit. Affairs

      detained. And all affairs eventually come down to money. – It

      laughed:

      – Money! Fuel of all engines of the world, without excluding also warm. Without

      money and to stars not to rise, isn’t that so, dear Zander?

      Gestures and Blotton’s movements were easy and free. He conveniently took seat in

      chair, crossed the legs, took out tortoise from a side pocket

      cigarette case with the platinum monogram and a crown, with dexterity of the conjurer

      threw it from a hand in a hand, took out a thin Egyptian cigarette and

      lit. Spicy tobacco smoke mixed up with aroma of the strong French

      spirits. Blotton brought with himself the atmosphere of carelessness of the spoiled child.

      – Exult, Zander. I brought to you a good portion of fuel. I and not

      knew that the way to stars lies through an altar.

      – What altar? Blotton laughed again, but did not answer a question.

      – I think, we will have now means to finish the first stratospheric

      rocket.

      Zander’s face turned pink.

      – I am very glad. But we will build it not here. Today at dawn I

      I depart to Switzerland.

      – Did not get on with “Mohicans”? – Zander nodded. – Switzerland?.

      It, perhaps, better. There to you will work more quietly. I will give you the check

      on the Lyons credit. Report the address. At five in the morning I depart to London.

      And how your work moved?

      Zander developed the drawing and began to explain. Blotton absent-mindedly listened

      several minutes, pretending what understands, thanked Zander, left

      the check, told several latest sports news and left. Zander

      called Vinkler and showed him the check.

      – Obviously, lord Blotton managed to receive money under the bride, —

      told, smiling, Vinkler.

      – How it “under the bride”?

      – Recently in Taymsa it was printed about lord Blotton’s engagement with

      Ellen Hinton. Ms. Ellen is the niece and the only heir

      millionaire lady Hinton. Probably, to Blotton allotted the wide credit.

      – And so why he said that the way to stars lies through

      altar! – Zander remembered.

      – Well, so far we can do without repair shop. It

      will replace to us sports vanity of Blotton. It is better for those. Leave, mister

      Zander. Now at us work will begin to boil. If only…

      – What?

      – If only you managed to get out safely. At you the plan is ready

      departure? Is not present? It is necessary to help you.

      And they were inclined over the map of the country which was once their homeland.

      Chapter 2

      THE READER GETS ACQUAINTED WITH VENERABLE SOCIETY OF THE LADY HINTON, AND ALSO IS CONVINCED THAT THE CLEVER PERSON AND ON COAST OF THE THAMES CAN FIND THE PLACER

      – Whether everything is given? A benedictine for the bishop? Sherribrendi for sir Henry?

      White wine? Cheese? Cake? And honey? His Eminence loves honey – food

      hermits. There is no honey? – Lady Hinton called.

      The girl, the red-cheeked Scotswoman in a gray dress, with white entered

      starched apron and in a white lacy headdress, from under which

      locks of a thick nutbrown hair were beaten out. In Mary’s hand was crystal

      vase with honey.

      – You forgot to put honey again, Mary? Mary silently put a vase

      and silently came to a table. Hinton carried out it by eyes and translated a look

      on a pale face of the niece.

      – Why you cut hair, Ellen?

      The girl touched slender white fingers with long bright pink

      nails the ashy hair falling to cheeks equal waves

      waves, and silently told:

      – Sir Henry…

      – Certainly! – with displeasure the old lady said. – Give me

      “air” also take the book.

      Lady Hinton embroidered five months with silk and gold flowers and

      cherubs on “air” for an altar of church in which prior was

      the bishop Iov Weller is a confessor the lady, her old friend and the adviser.

      – What time is it now?

      – Five minutes to five.

      – Read, Ellen.

      The niece opened at random Dickens’s volume:

      – “Then they only feel in a happy state

      the friendly association and mutual goodwill which is

      source of the most true, pure pleasure…”

      – In the Hyde park again, apparently, a meeting, – interrupted reading lady Hinton,

      listening. Shook the head and heaved so a deep sigh that it

      the breast which is stirred up under a lilac silk dress touched double

      chin.

      After this lady Hinton fiercely thrust a needle in an eye of the cherub and

      deeply thought.

      How many years it wages war, hopeless war over time!

      At first against each new pound of weight of a fat body, against everyone

      new wrinkle on a face – not without reason she endured three husbands and collected in

      the strong hands three states, – and then against that new that

      interfered


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