"Alexander Green - Crimson Sails" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Alexander)

Menners looked at the coalman scathingly and disappeared behind the
counter, from where he asked bitterly: "Do you want to order anything
else?"
"No," said Gray, pulling out his purse. "We're getting up and leaving.
Letika, you stay here. Come back this evening and don't say a word.
Having discovered all you can, report to me. Understand?"
"My dear Captain," Letika said with a familiarity brought on by the
rum, "only a deaf-mute would not have understood this."
"Fine. And don't forget that not in a single instance of the many that
may occur can you speak of me, or even mention my name. Goodbye!"
Gray left. From then on he was possessed by a consciousness of
astonishing discoveries, like a spark in Berthold's powder mortar,--one of
those spiritual avalanches from under which fire escapes, blazing. He was
possessed by a desire for immediate action. He came to his senses and was
able to think clearly only when he got into the rowboat. Laughing, he held
out his hand, palm up, to the scorching sun, as he had done once as a boy
in the wine cellar; then he shoved off and began rowing swiftly towards the
harbour.
 IV. ON THE EVE

On the eve of that day and seven years after Egle, the collector of folk
songs, had told the little girl on the beach a fairy-tale about a ship with
crimson sails, Assol returned home from her weekly visit to the toy shop
feeling distressed and looking sad. She had brought back the toys that she
had taken to be sold. She was so upset she could not speak at first, but
after looking at Longren's anxious face and seeing that he expected news
that was much worse than what had actually happened, she began to
speak, running her finger over the windowpane by which she stood, gazing
out at the sea absently.
The owner of the toy shop had begun this time by opening his ledger
and showing her how much they owed him. She felt faint at the sight of
the impressive, three-digit figure.
"This is how much you've received since December," the shopkeeper
said, "and now we'll see how much has been sold." And he set his finger
against another figure, but this one was a two-digit one.
"It's a pity and a shame to look."
"I could see by looking at his face that he was rude and angry. I'd have
gladly run away, but, honestly, I was so ashamed I had no strength to. And
he went on to say: 'There's no profit in it for me any more, my dear girl.
Imported goods are in demand now. All the shops are full of them, and
nobody buys these kind.' That's what he said. He went on talking, but I've
mixed up and forgotten what he said. He probably felt sorry for me,
because he suggested I try the Children's Bazaar and Alladin's Lamp."
Having unburdened herself of that which was most important, the girl
turned her head and looked at the old man timidly. Longren sat hunched
over, his fingers locked between his knees on which his elbows rested.
Sensing her eyes on him, he raised his head and sighed. Overcoming her
depression, she ran up to him, settled down beside him and, slipping her
small hand under the leather sleeve of his jacket, laughing and looking up
into her father's face from below, she continued with feigned liveliness: