"Smith, Wilbur - Shout At The Devil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)"That is correct, sir. Sebastian knew instinctively that here was an
ally. "An unusual name. You wouldn't be related to Mister Francis Oldsmith, wool merchant of Liverpool, England?" Flynn O'Flynn enquired politely. He had perused Sebastian's letters of introduction passed on to him by Rachid El Keb. "Good Lord!" Sebastian cried with joy. "Do you know my Pater?" "Do I know Francis Oldsmith?" Flynn laughed easily, and then checked himself His acquaintance was limited to the letterheads. "Well, I don't exactly know him person to person, you understand, but I think I can say I know of him. Used to be in the wool business myself once. "Flynn turned genially to the hotel proprietor and breathed on him a mixture of gin fumes and good-fellowship. "One hundred rupees was the sum you mentioned." "That's the sum, Mr. O'Flynn." The proprietor was easily soothed. "Mr. Oldsmith and I will be having a drink on the veranda. You can bring the receipt to us there." Flynn placed two sovereigns on the counter; sovereigns that had so recently reposed beneath Sebastian's With his boots propped on the low veranda wall, Sebastian regarded the harbour over the rim of his glass. Sebastian was not a drinking man but in view of Flynn O'Flynn's guardianship he could not be churlish and refuse hospitality. The number of craft in the bay suddenly multiplied miraculously before his eyes. Where a moment before one stubby little dhow had been tacking in through the entrance, there were now three identical boats sailing in formation. Sebastian closed one eye and by focusing determinedly, he reduced the three back to one. Mildly elated with his success, he turned his attention to his new friend and business partner who had pressed such large quantities of gin upon him. "Mr. O'Flynn," he said with deliberation, slurring the words slightly. "Forget that mister, Bassie, call me Flynn. just plain Flynn, the same as in gin." "Flynn," said Sebastian. "There isn't anything well, there isn't anything funny about this?" "How do you mean funny, boy?" |
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