"Arkadi and Boris Strugatsky. Monday begins on Saturday (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

have her due, and Roman and I don't have any cash."
"I will pay," I said. Now I wanted to leave very badly. I can't stand
these so-called daily-life collisions.
Volodia shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. Here he comes.
Everything's in order."
The hawk-nosed Roman came up to us, took me by the arm, and said,
"Well, it's all fixed. Let's go."
"Listen. It doesn't feel right, somehow," I said. "After all, she is
not obliged..
But we were already on the way to the house.
"She is obliged-- she is obliged," repeated Roman.
Having circumnavigated the oak, we came up to the rear entrance. Roman
pushed on the naugahyde-covered door, and we found ourselves in a large,
clean but poorly lighted entryway. The old hag waited for us with compressed
lips, and hands folded on her stomach.
At the sight of us, she boomed out vindictively, "And the statement--
let's have that statement now! Stating thus and so: have received such and
such, from such and such; which person has turned over the above-mentioned
to the undersigned. . .
Roman yelped weakly, and we entered the assigned room. It was cool,
with a single window hung with a calico curtain.
Roman said in a tense voice, "Make yourself at home."
The old woman immediately inquired from the entry in a jealous tone,
"And he won't be sucking his teeth?"
Roman barked without turning around, "No, he won't! I'm telling you
there are no teeth to worry over."
"Then let's go and write up the statement."
Roman raised his eyebrows, rolled his eyes, shook his head, but still
left the room. I looked around. There wasn't much furniture. A massive table
covered with a sere gray cloth with a fringe stood by the window, and in
front of it-- a rickety stool. A vast sofa was placed against a bare wood
wall, and a wardrobe stood against the other wall, which was decorated with
assorted wallpaper. The wardrobe was stuffed with old trash (felt boots,
bald fur coats, torn caps, and earmuffs) - A large Russian stove jutted into
the room resplendent with fresh calcimine, and a large murky mirror in a
peeling frame hung in the opposite corner. The floor was scoured clean and
covered with striped runners.
Two voices boomed on in a duet behind the wall: the old woman's voice
buzzed on the same note; Roman's went up and down.
"Tablecloth, inventory number two hundred and forty-five.. .
"Are you going to list each floorboard?"
"Table, dining...
"Put down the stove, too."
"You must be orderly.... Sofa. ..
I went up to the window and drew the curtain. Outside was the oak, and
nothing else could be seen. Quite evidently it was a truly ancient tree. Its
bark was gray and somehow dead looking, and its monstrous roots, which had
worked out of the ground, were covered with red-and-white lichen. "Put down
the oak, too!" said Roman behind the wall. A fat, greasy book lay on the
windowsill. I ruffled it absentmindedly, came away from the window, and sat