"Smith, Wilbur - Sunbird" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

Anthropology and Prehistory. Ben, this is Matjory Phelps. " I turned to
each of them as she spoke their names, and I acknowledged the slightly
over-effusive greetings; giving each my eyes and voice, they are my good
things. It was as difficult for them as it was for me.

You do not expect your hostess to spring a hunchback on you with the
pre-lunch drinks.

The children rescued me. Bobby spotted me and came at a run, shrieking,
"Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben!" She flung her cold wet arms around my neck and
pressed her sopping bathing-costume to my new suit, before dragging me
away to become overwhelmed by the rest of the Sturvesant brood and their
hordes of young friends.

I find it easier with children, they either do not seem to notice or
they come straight out with it. "Why do you walk all bent over like
that?

For once I was not very good value, I was too preoccupied to give them
my full attention-and soon they drifted away, all but Bobby-for she is
ever loyal. Then Hilary took over from her stepdaughter and I was
returned to the league of young mothers where I made a better
impression. I cannot resist pretty women, once the first awkwardness
wears off. It was three o'clock before I left for the Institute.

Bobby Sturvesant pours Glen Grant malt whisky with the same heavy
thirteen-year-old hand she uses to pour Coca-Cola. Consequently I
floated into the Institute feeling very good indeed.

The envelope was on my desk marked "Private and Confidential" with a
note pinned to one corner, "This came for you at lunch-time. Looks
exciting! Sal."

With a quick stab of jealousy I inspected the seal of the envelope. It
was unbroken. Sally hadn't been into it-but I knew it must have taken
all her self-control for she has an almost neurotic curiosity. She calls
it a fine inquiring scientific mind.

I guessed she would arrive within the next five minutes so I found the
packet of Three X peppermints in my top drawer and slipped one into my
mouth to smother the whisky fumes before I opened the envelope and drew
out the glossy twelve-by-twelve enlargement, switched on the desk light
and adjusted it and the magnifying table lens over the print.

Then I looked around at the hosts of the past that crowd my office.

All four walls are lined with shelves, and froth floor to shoulder
height-my shoulder height-these are filled with books: the tools of my
trade, all bound in brown and green calf-skin, and titled in gold leaf.