"Walter Jon Williams - Wall, Stone, Craft" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Walter John)

“Does that mean what I think it does, George?”
George—the pretty auburn-haired man in byrons—shook rain off
his short cape, stepped to the register, examined the text. “Not
‘friendly fellow,’ ” he said. “That would be ‘anehr philos.’
‘Anthropos’ is mankind, not man.” There was the faintest touch of
Scotland in his speech.
“So it is,” said the officer. “It comes back now.”
George bent at his slim waist and looked carefully at the register.

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Williams, Walter Jon - Wall, Stone, Craft.htm


“What the fellow says is, ‘Both friend of man and—’ ” He frowned,
then looked at his friend. “You were right about the ‘atheist,’ I’m
afraid.”
The officer was indignant. “Ain’t funny, George,” he said.
George gave a cynical little half-smile. His voice changed, turned
comical and fussy, became that of a high-pitched English
schoolmaster. “Let us try to make out the name of this famous
atheist.‘’ He bent over the register again. ‘ ’Perseus— you had that
right, Somerset. Busseus—how very irregular. Kselleius—Kelly?
Shelley?” He smiled at his friend. His voice became very Irish.
“Kelly, I imagine. An atheistical upstart Irish schoolmaster with a
little Greek. But what the Busseus might be eludes me, unless his
middle name is Omnibus.”
Somerset chuckled. Mary rose from her place and walked quietly
toward the pair. “The gentleman’s name is Bysshe, sir,” she said.
“Percy Bysshe Shelley.”
The two men turned in surprise. The officer—Somerset—bowed as
he perceived a lady. Mary saw for the first time that he had one
empty sleeve pinned across his tunic, which would account for the
comment about the hand. The other—George, the man in byrons—
swept off his hat and gave Mary a flourishing bow, one far too
theatrical to be taken seriously. When he straightened, he gave
Mary a little frown.
“Bysshe Shelley?” he said. “Any relation to Sir Bysshe, the
baronet?”
“His grandson.”


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“Sir Bysshe is a protege of old Norfolk.” This an aside to his
friends. Radical Whiggery was afoot, or so the tone implied. George
returned his attention to Mary as the other Englishmen gathered
about her. “An interesting family, no doubt,” he said, and smiled at
her. Mary wanted to flinch from the compelling way he looked at