"Andre Norton - Dread Companion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

wore into the city on the few errands that took me there. It was as plain
as the uniform and, like it, shouted that it was institutional wear. But
these brilliant lengths of silky material were very different. I had seen
such worn - but only by the daughters of landed families.

There was a pair of loose trousers of a darkly rich plum shade. Over those
went a tunic of the same color, but a different material, for it was thick
and had a texture like fur. This had long sleeves coming to the knuckles,
and it was latched from belt to throat with a series of silver buckles. A
belt of the same metal drew in the waist tightly.

My hair was much shorter than that of any woman outside the creche. But
there was a long veil of silvery net, with the eyeholes ringed with
glitter, to cover my head, dropping to my hips in the back, to the waist in
front. In such clothing I was disguised, and certainly none of my fellow
students would know me.

When I went back to Lazk Volk and caught sight of my reflection on the
mirror screen, I was so astounded as to let out a small gasp. He nodded,


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and at the same time he pushed a transportation plaque to me.

Very good." He approved my masquerade, for such I felt this clothing to be.
"Gentlefem Zobak is bound for the planet of Dylan. She has two children, a
son and a daughter, both quite young. Not being in robust health, she has
applied for a house aide. Her husband is only temporarily stationed on
Dylan - for about two years planet-time, I believe. I do not think the
Zobaks will stay longer. But they have the power to ask for extra service,
and if you please them, they might open other doors for you. Now, you had
better go. It would never do to keep the Gentlefem waiting."

It might not do for me to keep my prospective employer waiting, but it was
plain when I reached the Double Star that the situation was not the same
for her. I was shown into an outer reception room, where I found others
before me. There were two women seated there, with the look of those having
waited perhaps already too long. Since we all followed the custom of
keeping our veils down with strangers, all I saw of them was their clothes,
much like those I wore, but differing in color and material. I spent some
of the tedious time in trying to place my fellow employment seekers.

One wore rusty brown. I noted two mended slits in her veil. And the hands
that showed (her sleeves were significantly shorter than mine) were red and
roughened as if she had done hard work with them. I gained an impression of
harassed middle age. The other, sitting across from me, wore blue, but
there was something cheap about the too extreme cut of the tunic (with
sleeves that touched the fingertips in an arrogant boast of the gentility