"Г.К.Честертон. The Club of Queer Trades " - читать интересную книгу автора

"And who is Wimpole?"

"Basil," cried the other, "you must have been in the country.
You must have been in the antipodes. You must have been in the
moon. Who is Wimpole? Who was Shakespeare?"

"As to who Shakespeare was," answered my friend placidly, "my views
go no further than thinking that he was not Bacon. More probably he
was Mary Queen of Scots. But as to who Wimpole is--" and his speech
also was cloven with a roar of laughter from within.

"Wimpole!" cried Lord Beaumont, in a sort of ecstasy. "Haven't
you heard of the great modern wit? My dear fellow, he has turned
conversation, I do not say into an art--for that, perhaps, it
always was but into a great art, like the statuary of Michael
Angelo--an art of masterpieces. His repartees, my good friend,
startle one like a man shot dead. They are final; they are--"

Again there came the hilarious roar from the room, and almost with
the very noise of it, a big, panting apoplectic old gentleman came
out of the inner house into the hall where we were standing.

"Now, my dear chap," began Lord Beaumont hastily.

"I tell you, Beaumont, I won't stand it," exploded the large old
gentleman. "I won't be made game of by a twopenny literary
adventurer like that. I won't be made a guy. I won't--"

"Come, come," said Beaumont feverishly. "Let me introduce you.
This is Mr Justice Grant--that is, Mr Grant. Basil, I am sure you
have heard of Sir Walter Cholmondeliegh."

"Who has not?" asked Grant, and bowed to the worthy old baronet,
eyeing him with some curiosity. He was hot and heavy in his
momentary anger, but even that could not conceal the noble though
opulent outline of his face and body, the florid white hair, the
Roman nose, the body stalwart though corpulent, the chin
aristocratic though double. He was a magnificent courtly gentleman;
so much of a gentleman that he could show an unquestionable
weakness of anger without altogether losing dignity; so much of a
gentleman that even his faux pas were well-bred.

"I am distressed beyond expression, Beaumont," he said gruffly,
"to fail in respect to these gentlemen, and even more especially
to fail in it in your house. But it is not you or they that are
in any way concerned, but that flashy half-caste jackanapes--"

At this moment a young man with a twist of red moustache and a
sombre air came out of the inner room. He also did not seem to be