"Gene Wolfe - Detective of dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

first Louis, into a multitude of dank little stalls. Since it was, as it happened,
one of the addresses mentioned by Baron H____, I went in.
Gas flared everywhere, yet the interior could not have been said to be
well lit - each jet was sullen and secretive, as if the proprietor in whose
cubicle it was located wished it to light none but his own wares. These
cubicles were in no order; nor could I find any directory or guide to lead me
to the one I sought. A few customers, who seemed to have visited the
place for years, so that they understood where everything was, drifted from
one display to the next. When they arrived at each, the proprietor came out,
silent (so it seemed to me) as a specter, ready to answer questions or
accept a payment; but I never heard a question asked, or saw any money
tendered - the customer would finger the edge of a kitchen knife, or hold a
garment up to her own shoulders, or turn the pages of some moldering
book; and then put the thing down again, and go away.
At last, when I had tired of peeping into alcoves lined with booths still
gloomier than the ones on the main concourse outside, I stopped at a
leather merchant's and asked the man to direct me to Frфulein A____.
"I do not know her," he said.
"I am told on good authority that her business is conducted in this
building, and that she buys and sells antiques."
"We have several antique dealers here. Herr M____-"
"I am searching for a young woman. Has your Herr M____ a niece or a
cousin?"
"-handles chairs and chests, largely. Herr O____ near the guildhall-"
"It is within this building."
"-stocks pictures, mostly. A few mirrors. What is it you wish to buy?"
At this point we were interrupted, mercifully, by a woman from the next
booth. "He wants Frфulein A____. Out of here, and to your left; past the
wigmaker's, then right to the stationer's, then left again. She sells old lace."
I found the place at last, and sitting at the very back of her booth Frфulein
A____ herself, a pretty, slender, timid-looking young woman. Her
merchandise was spread on two tables; I pretended to examine it and
found that it was not old lace she sold but old clothing, much of it trimmed
with lace. After a few moments she rose and came out to talk to me, saying,
"If you could tell me what you require? . . ." She was taller than I had
anticipated, and her flaxen hair would have been very attractive if it were
ever released from the tight braids coiled round her head.
"I am only looking. Many of these are beautiful - are they expensive?"
"Not for what you get. The one you are holding is only fifty marks."
"That seems like a great deal."
"They are the fine dresses of long ago - for visiting, or going to the ball.
The dresses of wealthy women of aristocratic taste. All are like new; I will
not handle anything else. Look at the seams in that one you hold, the tiny
stitches all done by hand. Those were the work of dressmakers who
created only four or five in a year, and worked twelve and fourteen hours a
day, sewing at the first light, and continuing under the lamp, past midnight."
I said, "I see that you have been crying, Frфulein. Their lives were indeed
miserable, though no doubt there are people today who suffer equally."
"No doubt there are," the young woman said. "I, however, am not one of
them." And she turned away so that I should not see her tears.