"Г.К.Честертон. The Club of Queer Trades " - читать интересную книгу автораresponsibility of telling you that anything you say--"
"Mad," repeated Northover, with a weary air. And at this moment, for the first time, there struck in among them the strange, sleepy voice of Basil Grant. "Major Brown," he said, "may I ask you a question?" The Major turned his head with an increased bewilderment. "You?" he cried; "certainly, Mr Grant." "Can you tell me," said the mystic, with sunken head and lowering brow, as he traced a pattern in the dust with his sword-stick, "can you tell me what was the name of the man who lived in your house before you?" The unhappy Major was only faintly more disturbed by this last and futile irrelevancy, and he answered vaguely: "Yes, I think so; a man named Gurney something--a name with a hyphen--Gurney-Brown; that was it." "And when did the house change hands?" said Basil, looking up "I came in last month," said the Major. And at the mere word the criminal Northover suddenly fell into his great office chair and shouted with a volleying laughter. "Oh! it's too perfect--it's too exquisite," he gasped, beating the arms with his fists. He was laughing deafeningly; Basil Grant was laughing voicelessly; and the rest of us only felt that our heads were like weathercocks in a whirlwind. "Confound it, Basil," said Rupert, stamping. "If you don't want me to go mad and blow your metaphysical brains out, tell me what all this means." Northover rose. "Permit me, sir, to explain," he said. "And, first of all, permit me to apologize to you, Major Brown, for a most abominable and unpardonable blunder, which has caused you menace and inconvenience, in which, if you will allow me to say so, you have behaved with astonishing courage and dignity. Of course you need not trouble about the bill. We will stand the loss." And, tearing the paper across, he flung the halves into the waste-paper basket |
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