"Dennis Danvers - Circuit of Heaven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Danvers Dennis)

She didnтАЩt know how sheтАЩd missed the sign before. She looked up and down the street. It was the only
shop visible in either direction. Maybe what I need is a book, she thought. Prop myself up in bed and
lose myself in a novel. She descended the moss-stained steps, breathing in the smell of damp stone. She
pushed open the door, and a brass bell rang above her head, but no one appeared to greet her, and no
one sat at the rolltop desk beside the door. A maze of pine shelving radiated from the doorway in all
directions. Yellowing, hand-lettered index cards were thumbtacked here and thereтАФHistory, Romance,
Horror, Art, Classics, Science Fiction, Mystery. Each sign had an arrow like this ? to show the way.
She chose Classics and walked down the narrow aisle, running her fingers along the spines of old,
jacketless hardbacks.

She took one down, read a sentence or two, put it back, got another one. The old book smell of the
place filled her with contentment. She loved to read. She hesitated as she started to take another book
from the shelf. What have I read? she asked herself. Her head was full of authors and titles; she even
knew something about them. Wuthering Heights was by Emily Bronte. It was the story of Cathy and
Heathcliff. But when it came to whether sheтАЩd read a particular book or not, she couldnтАЩt be sure.

She scanned the shelves for a familiar title, and a faded green book with gold on the spine caught her eye.
She tilted her head to read the titleтАФRebecca by Daphne du Maurier. She took it down. It was familiar,
but she couldnтАЩt remember ever reading it. She opened it and read the beginningтАФ
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate
leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter for the way was barred to me. There was a
padlock and a chain upon the gate. I called in my dream to the lodge-keeper, and had no answer,
and peering closer through the rusted spokes of the gate I saw that the lodge was uninhabited.
She took it as a sign that the story began with a dream, just as her day had. She clutched the book to her
chest and decided to spend the rest of the afternoon at Manderley with RebeccaтАФwhoever she might
turn out to be.

She heard someone clearing his throat and turned to find a little old man standing at the end of the aisle, a
dreamy smile on his face. His body was slightly stooped, and he leaned on a cane, grasping it with bony
hands. His hair was as white as paper. His wrinkled skin looked like cracked glaze on an ancient vase.

тАЬItтАЩs a wonderful book, isnтАЩt it?тАЭ he said. Even his fluting voice was old and worn.

She blushed and looked down at the book she still clutched to her chest like a life preserver. тАЬI donтАЩt
know. I donтАЩt think IтАЩve read it.тАЭ

He nodded, still smiling. тАЬYouтАЩve never seen anyone who looks so old, have you?тАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm sorryтАФтАЭ

He waved his cane a few inches above the floor and settled back onto it. тАЬDonтАЩt be ridiculous. I know
IтАЩm a curiosity. Why would a sane man look like this in here?тАЭ He chuckled to himself. тАЬBut I donтАЩt want
to forget IтАЩm getting old, goddamnit. Be a hundred, week from today.тАЭ He winked at her. тАЬI want to look
the part.тАЭ

тАЬI think you look wonderful,тАЭ she said, and she meant it. There was something endearing about him, even
noble. тАЬI was just surprised.тАЭ

He studied her for a moment, his head nodding almost imperceptibly. She didnтАЩt know if this nodding