"C M Kornbluth - The Goodly Creatures" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

digging him up, J. F."
 Farwell saw the boy now at the last desk on the window-less side of the room, writing earnestly in
longhand. Two months on a fair-enough salary hadn't filled him out as much as Farwell expected, but he
did have a new suit on his back.



"It was just a gamble," he told McGuffy and went back to his office.



He had pretended not to remember the kid. Actually he'd been in his thoughts off and on since he hired
him. There had been no trouble with Angelo since his grim little interview with the boy. Farwell hoped,
rather sentimentally, he knew, that the interview had launched him on a decent career, turned him aside
from the rocky Bohemian road and its pitfalls. As he had been turned aside himself. The nonsensical
"really creative synthesis of Pinero and Shaw" pattered through his head again and he winced, thoroughly
sick of it. For the past week the thought of visiting a psychiatrist had pattered after Pinero and Shaw
every time, each time to be dismissed as silly.



His phone buzzed and he mechanically said, "Jim Farwell."



"Farwell, why didn't you check with me?" rasped Green-hough's voice.



"I don't understand, Mr. Greenhough. Where are you calling from?"



"The Hotel Greybaradown the street, of course! I've been sitting here for an hour waiting for your call."



"Mr. Greenhough, all they told me from New York was that you were coming to Chicago."



"Nonsense. I gave the instructions myself."



"I'm sorry about the mixupтАФI must have misunderstood. Are you going to have a look at the office?"



"No. Why should I do anything like that? I'll call you back." Greenhough hung up.