"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. The Final Circle of Paradise (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"A man of your age would be welcome at the table of
Mrs. and Miss Hamilton-Rey."
"Go on," I said.
"Father Geoffrois..."
"I would prefer an aborigine."
He turned the page.
"Opir, doctor of philosophy, just now has sat down at his
table."
"That's a possibility," said I.
He put away the book and led me along a path paved with
limestone slabs. Somewhere around us there were people eating,
talking, swishing seltzer. Hummingbirds darted like
multicolored bees in the leaves. The maitre-d'hotel inquired
respectfully, "How would you like to be introduced?"
"Ivan. Tourist and litterateur."
Doctor Opir was about fifty. I liked him at once because
he immediately and without any ceremony sent the maitre-d'hotel
packing after a waiter. He was pink and plump, and moved and
talked incessantly.
"Don't trouble yourself," he said when I reached. for the
menu. "It's all set already. Vodka, anchovies under egg - we
call them pacifunties - potato soup..."
"With sour cream," I interjected.
"Of course!... steamed sturgeon a la Astrakhan... a patty
of veal..."
"I would prefer pheasant baked in feathers."
"No - don't; it's not the season... a slice of beef, eel
in sweet marinade."
"Coffee," I said.
"Cognac," he retorted.
"Coffee with cognac."
"All right, cognac and coffee with cognac. Some pale wine
with the fish and a good natural cigar."
Dinner with Doctor Opir turned out to be most congenial.
It was possible to eat, drink, and listen. Or not to listen.
Doctor Opir did not need a conversation. He required a
listener. I did not have to participate in the talking, I
didn't even supply any commentaries, while he orated with
enthusiastic delight, almost without interruption, waving his
fork, while plates and dishes nonetheless became empty in front
of him with mystifying speed. Never in my life have I met a man
who was so skilled in conversation while his mouth was so fully
packed and so busy masticating.
"Science! Her Majesty!" he exclaimed. "She matured long
and painfully, but her fruits turned out to be abundant and
sweet. Stop, Moment, you are beautiful! Hundreds of generations
were born, suffered, and died, and not one was impelled to
pronounce this incantation. We are singularly fortunate. We
were born in the greatest of epochs, the Epoch of the
Satisfaction of Desires. It may be that not everybody