"John Norman - Gor 22 - Dancer of Gor " - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

My heart had almost stopped beating. He was large, and supple. His
hands and arms, long arms, seemed powerful. He was dressed in a
dark business suit, with a tie. There seemed, however, something
subtly awry with this vesture. He did not seem at ease somehow in
this garment. There seemed something alien about him, something
foreign. What startled me most about him at first, I think, was his
eyes, and how they looked at me. I was not certain I could fathom
such a look, but it had terrified me. It was almost, I had inexplicably
felt, as though his eyes could see through my clothing. Perhaps, I
thought, such a man has looked on many women, and would have
difficulty in conjecturing the general nature of my most intimate
lineaments. In that instant I had felt, in effect, naked before him. and
then he had lifted his head and was glancing about the room, as
thought he might understand my apprehension at being beneath a




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gaze such as him. тАЮYes?тАЬ I repeated, as pleasantly as I could,
catching my breath. He looked back at me, swiftly, fiercely. He was
not interested in my pretenses, my games. I quickly lowered my
head, unable, somehow, to meet that gaze. It is difficult to explain
this, but if you meet such a man, you will know it. Before such a
man a female can suddenly feel herself nothing. Then I sensed him
turning again to one side. Mercifully I knew he had freed me of his
gaze. I lifted my eyes a little, but not so much as to risk, should he
turn, encountering his.
тАЮHave you HarperтАЩs Dictionary of Classical Literature and
Antiquities?тАЬ he asked.
тАЮOf course,тАЬ I said, in relief. Suddenly our relationship became
explicable and modular. тАЮIts number is in the card catalog,тАЬ I said.
I sensed him looking at me.
тАЮYou can fine the number for it in the card catalog,тАЬ I told him.
He did not move toward the card catalog.
тАЮCan you recognize it?тАЬ I asked.
He was silent. I sensed he might be becoming angry. Did he think
I was going to wait on him?
тАЮIf you can recognize it,тАЬ I said, тАЮI can tell you where it is. It is
down that aisle, and on the left, toward the end, on the bottom
shelf.тАЬ
тАЮShow me,тАЬ he said.
тАЮIтАЩm busy,тАЬ I said.
тАЮNo, you are not,тАЬ he said. To be sure, he was right. I was not
really busy. Perhaps he had determined that before he had come to
the desk. I had a distinct, uneasy sense, then, that he might be
remembering, and keeping an account in some way, of my petty
delays.
I rose from behind the desk. He stood back. I would precede him.
That was appropriate, of course, as it was I who knew where the