"Avram Davidson - Dr. Bhumbo Singh" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

this distinguished family name, which he has assumed in dishonor of a
certain benevolent Sikh horse-coper who in a rash and malignly
constellated hour took the notion to adopt him.
Now to business; тАЬA spell, Underhand Sahib?тАЭ he next asks, rubbing his
chin. His chin bears a dull-blue tattoo which would strike terror to the
hearts and loosen the strings of the bowels of the vilest ruffians in
Rangoon, Lahore, Peshawar, Pernambuco, and Wei-hatta-hatta yet
unhanged, save, of course, that it is almost always by virtue of dust, the
inky goo of curried squid, and a hatred of water akin to hydrophobia,
totally invisible. тАЬA spell, a spell? A nice spell? A severed head?тАЭ
тАЬFie upon your trumpery spells,тАЭ Mr. Eevelyn (two es) Underhand says
easily. тАЬThey are fit only for witches, warlocks, and Boy Scouts or Girl. As
for your severed heads, shrunken or otherwise: Ho Ho.тАЭ
He puts the tip of his right index finger alongside of the right naris of
his nose. He winks.
Dr. Bhumbo Singh attempts a leer, but his heart is not in it. тАЬThey cost
uncommon high nowadays, even wholesale,тАЭ he whines. And then he drops
commercial mummery and simply waits.
тАЬI have come for a smell, Doctor,тАЭ Underhand says, flicking away with
the tip of his stalking-crutch a cricket scaped from the supply kept to feed
the tree-shrews. Dr. Bh. SinghтАЩs red little eyes gleam like those of a rogue
ferret in the rutting season.
Underhand gives his head a brisk, crisp nod, and smacks his pursed
lips. A smell, subtle, slow, pervasive. A vile smell. A puzzling smell. A smell
of seemingly ubiquitous provenaunce, and yet a smell which has no spoor.
An evil smell. One which will, eventually, and to infinite relief, diminishтАж
diminishтАж all but vanishтАж and then, rising like a phoenix from its bed of
fragrant ashes, stalk abroad like a pest тАФ worse, far worse than beforeтАж
тАЬA smell disgusting beyond disgustтАжтАЭ
A slight shiver passes through Dr. (he has neither right nor title to this
title, but who would dare deny it him? The AMA? The last platform which
they could have occupied together even in combat was also occupied by
Albertus Magnus.) passes through Dr. Bhumbo S.тАШs filthy, maugre frame.
His tongue protrudes. (It is true that he can, when moved to do so, touch
with it the tip of his rather retrouss├й nose; if it is also true that he can тАФ
and does тАФ catch flies with it like a toad or chameleon, Mr. Underhand
has not found the matter meet communicating to me.) His tongue
withdraws. тАЬIn short, most-valued customer, what is now requisite is a
smell which will drive men mad.тАЭ
тАЬтАШMen,тАЩ Dr. Bhumbo Singh? тАШMen?тАЩ I said nothing of men. The word
never issued from my mouth. The concept, in fact, never formed in my
mind.тАЭ Bhumbo shakes with what may be a malarial spasm, but is
probably silent laughter.
тАЬI have just the thing,тАЭ he says. тАЬI have the very thing. The price is
purely pro forma, the price is minimal, the price is 1500 golden gold
pieces, of the coinage of Great Golconda. Per ounce.тАЭ
UnderhandтАЩs brows raise, descend, meet. тАШтАЬOf the imprint of Great
GolcondaтАЩ? Why, even the very schoolboys know that Golconda-gold was so
exceedingly pure that it might be eaten like jam, which is why so few of its
coins now remain. Damme, damme, Dr. Bhumbo Singh, if this is how you