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

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My room and bed were cold, and I could not sleep. I lay awake all night, my thoughts circling endlessly around subjects that could not be further removed from my immediate surroundings. In the morning, surprisingly alert in spite of my sleeplessness, I was first down to the breakfast-room, and as I sat at my usual table the head waiter approached me.

“Mrs Anson’s compliments, sir,” he said. “Would you kindly attend to this directly you have finished breakfast?”

I opened the slim brown envelope and found that it contained my account. When I left the breakfast-room I discovered that my luggage had been packed, and was ready for me in the entrance hall. The head waiter took my money, and conducted me to the door. None of the other guests had seen me leave; there had been no sign of Mrs Anson. I stood in the sharp cool of the morning air, still stunned by the abruptness of my enforced departure.

After a while I carried my bags to the station and deposited them at the luggage office. I stayed in the vicinity of the hotel all day, but saw no sign of Amelia. At midday I went to the inn on the Ilkley road, but she did not appear. As evening drew on I went back to the station, and caught the last train of the day to London.