"Герберт Уэллс. Dr. Moreau" - читать интересную книгу автораthe sharpest definition. I stared before me out at the green sea,
frothing under a freshening breeze, and let these and other strange memories of the last few days chase one another through my mind. What could it all mean? A locked enclosure on a lonely island, a notorious vivisector, and these crippled and distorted men? VIII. THE CRYING OF THE PUMA. MONTGOMERY interrupted my tangle of mystification and suspicion about one o'clock, and his grotesque attendant followed him with a tray bearing bread, some herbs and other eatables, a flask of whiskey, a jug of water, and three glasses and knives. I glanced askance at this strange creature, and found him watching me with his queer, restless eyes. Montgomery said he would lunch with me, but that Moreau was too preoccupied with some work to come. "Moreau!" said I. "I know that name." "The devil you do!" said he. "What an ass I was to mention it to you! of our-mysteries. Whiskey?" "No, thanks; I'm an abstainer." "I wish I'd been. But it's no use locking the door after the steed is stolen. It was that infernal stuff which led to my coming here,-that, and a foggy night. I thought myself in luck at the time, when Moreau offered to get me off. It's queer-" "Montgomery," said I, suddenly, as the outer door closed, "why has your man pointed ears?" "Damn!" he said, over his first mouthful of food. He stared at me for a moment, and then repeated, "Pointed ears?" "Little points to them," said I, as calmly as possible, with a catch in my breath; "and a fine black fur at the edges?" He helped himself to whiskey and water with great deliberation. "I was under the impression-that his hair covered his ears." "I saw them as he stooped by me to put that coffee you sent to me on the table. And his eyes shine in the dark." |
|
|