"Pat Murphy - Menagerie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Pat)

young man, though too quiet and diffident to do justice to himself. He was
enthusiastic when he was engaged in pursuits that interested him, such as the
study of natural philosophy. In those pursuits, his understanding was excellent
and his scholarly endeavors had been greatly praised by his colleagues at the
museum. But he was fitted neither by abilities nor by disposition to answer to
the wishes of his family, who longed to see him in a distinguished profession.

In company, his tendency was to retire to a quiet comer and observe, rather than
speak out and draw the attention of the crowd to his own accomplishments. He was
aware of this tendency and regretted his natural shyness, but he could not bring
himself to hold forth as William Gordon did.

Sunlight shone through his bedroom window, slipping through a small opening
between the drapes. As the day was clear and bright, he dressed and went out for
a walk in the garden before the rest of the company woke.

A peacock-- perhaps the same one that had disturbed his slumber-strutted down
the path ahead of him, colorful tail trailing in the dust. The path wound past a
cage of parrots that greeted him with rode squawks and flapping wings. "Blast
you to pieces!" one bird shrieked. "Blast you to pieces!" A scarlet macaw
watched him with bright and beady eyes and croaked softly, "You're a bounder,
you are."

No doubt Sir Radford had purchased the birds from sailors who had taught them
these questionable refrains. Still, it was difficult to ignore the second bird's
quiet insistence and steady gaze. "You're a bounder," the bird muttered again.
George turned away, fighting the urge to protest that he was not a bounder, but
he knew of a bounder in the vicinity.

The night before, he had shared a nightcap with William Gordon after the other
members of the party had gone to bed. Jovial and relaxed, William had told
George of his walk with Selina in the garden. William seemed smugly confident
that Selina was partial to him, saying that he had stolen a kiss from the young
lady when they were strolling out by the aviary.

George had contained his feelings, listening to William's cheerful confession
without comment but with a sick feeling at heart. He knew the man's reputation
through his connections at the Zoological Society: an officer in the Navy,
Gordon often returned from his travels with exotic animals for sale. He spent
the money from these sales in a life of idleness and dissipation, riding and
hunting and drinking and gambling. George knew that some thought Gordon
handsome, but he thought the man had rather a brutish countenance.

"Yes, Miss Selina is a beautiful girl," William said. "And I am certain that Sir
Radford will settle a tidy fortune on her at the time of her marriage." He
smiled, showing his teeth, and George thought of the versipellis. In the
company, he had not mentioned that the French attributed the nature of the loup
garou to excess passion. Men who lacked control of their baser instincts were
most susceptible to this transformation.