"Christopher Priest - The Space Machine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Priest Christopher)

She tugged again at the strap, but the metal clasp was tangled in the strands of hair.

At the far end of the corridor I heard the sound of voices, and the creak of the wooden staircase. Miss
Fitzgibbon heard the sounds too, for she also looked that way.

"What am I to do?" she said softly. "I cannot be found with this in my hair."

She pulled again, but winced.
 "May I help?" I said, reaching forward.

A shadow appeared on the wall by the top of the staircase, thrown by the lamps in the hallway.

"We will be discovered at any moment!" said Miss Fitzgibbon, the goggles swinging beside her face.
"We had better step into my room for a few minutes."

The voices were coming closer.

"Your room?" I said in astonishment. "Do you not want a chaperone? After all-"

"Whom would you propose to chaperone me?" said Miss Fitzgibbon. "Mrs Anson?"

Raising her skirt again, she hurried up the steps towards the door. After hesitating another second or
two I took up my samples-case, holding the lid down with my hand, and followed. I waited while the
young lady unlocked the door, and a moment later we were inside.



ii


The room was larger than mine, and more comfortable. There were two gas-mantles against the wall,
and when Miss Fitzgibbon turned them up the room was filled with a bright, warm radiance. A coal fire
burned in the grate, and the windows were richly curtained with long, velvet drapes. In one comer there
was a large French bedstead, with the covers turned down. Most of the space, however, was given over
to furniture which would not have looked out of place in the average parlour, with a chaise longue, two
easy chairs, several rugs, an immense dresser, a bookcase and a small table.

I stood nervously by the door, while Miss Fitzgibbon went to a mirror and untangled the goggles from
her hair. She placed these on the table.

When she had removed her hat, she said: "Please sit down, Mr Turnbull."

I looked at the goggles. "I think I should leave now."

Miss Fitzgibbon was silent, listening to the sound of the voices as they passed the bottom of the stairs.

"Perhaps it would be as well if you stayed a little longer," she said. "It would not do for you to be seen
leaving my room at this late hour."

I laughed politely with her, but I must confess to being considerably taken aback by such a remark.