"Arthur C. Doyle - The Poison Belt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clarke Arthur C)

upon his desk. His broad, rugged face, or as much of it as was
visible over the matted beard, was still deeply flushed, and he
seemed to be under the influence of some strong excitement.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, in a voice as if he was addressing
a public meeting, "this is indeed an interesting reunion, and it
takes place under extraordinary--I may say
unprecedented--circumstances. May I ask if you have observed
anything upon your journey from town?"

"The only thing which I observed," said Summerlee with a sour
smile, "was that our young friend here has not improved in his
manners during the years that have passed. I am sorry to state
that I have had to seriously complain of his conduct in the
train, and I should be wanting in frankness if I did not say
that it has left a most unpleasant impression in my mind."

"Well, well, we all get a bit prosy sometimes," said Lord John.
"The young fellah meant no real harm. After all, he's an
International, so if he takes half an hour to describe a game of
football he has more right to do it than most folk."

"Half an hour to describe a game!" I cried indignantly. "Why, it
was you that took half an hour with some long-winded story about
a buffalo. Professor Summerlee will be my witness."

"I can hardly judge which of you was the most utterly wearisome,"
said Summerlee. "I declare to you, Challenger, that I never wish
to hear of football or of buffaloes so long as I live."

"I have never said one word to-day about football," I protested.

Lord John gave a shrill whistle, and Summerlee shook his head sadly.

"So early in the day too," said he. "It is indeed deplorable. As
I sat there in sad but thoughtful silence----"

"In silence!" cried Lord John. "Why, you were doin' a music-hall
turn of imitations all the way--more like a runaway gramophone
than a man."

Summerlee drew himself up in bitter protest.

"You are pleased to be facetious, Lord John," said he with a
face of vinegar.

"Why, dash it all, this is clear madness," cried Lord John.
"Each of us seems to know what the others did and none of us
knows what he did himself. Let's put it all together from the
first. We got into a first-class smoker, that's clear, ain't