"Dunsany, Lord - Glittering Gate, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dunsany Lord)

right. {Looks up and up for some time} No. I can't
climb *that* wall. Why, it's got no top to it. Up and
up it goes. {Knocks at the door and waits}

Jim:
That is n't for the likes of us.

Bill:
Why, hullo, there's another bloke. Why, somebody's
been hanging him. Why, if it is n't old Jim! Jim!

Jim: {wearily}
Hullo.

Bill:
Why, Jim! 'Ow long 'ave you been here?

Jim:
I *am* here always.

Bill:
Why, Jim, don't you remember me? Why, you taught Bill
to pick locks years and years ago when he was a little
boy, and had never learnt a trade and had n't a penny
in the world, and never would have had but for you,
Jim. {Jim stares vaguely} I never forgot *you*, Jim.
I broke into scores of houses. And then I took on big
houses. Out in the country, you know, real big ones.
I got rich, Jim, and respected by all who knew me. I
was a citizen, Jim, one who dwelt in our midst. And of
an evening, sitting over the fire, I used to say, "I am
as clever as Jim." But I was n't, Jim. I could n't
climb like you. And I could n't walk like you on a
creaky stair, when everything's quite still and there's
a dog in the house and little rattly things left lying
about, and a door that whines if you touch it, and
someone ill upstairs that you did n't know of, who has
nothing to do but listen for *you* 'cause she can't get
to sleep. Don't you remember little Bill?

Jim:
That would be somewhere else.

Bill:
Yes, Jim, yes. Down on Earth.

Jim:
But there is n't anywhere else.

Bill: