-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Артур Конан Дойл
-
- Затерянный мир
-
- Стр. 45/139
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Suddenly
there
was
a
touch
at
my
elbow
.
I
turned
,
and
found
myself
looking
into
the
humorous
,
masterful
eyes
of
the
tall
,
thin
man
who
had
volunteered
to
be
my
companion
on
this
strange
quest
.
"
Mr.
Malone
,
I
understand
,
"
said
he
.
"
We
are
to
be
companions
--
what
?
My
rooms
are
just
over
the
road
,
in
the
Albany
.
Perhaps
you
would
have
the
kindness
to
spare
me
half
an
hour
,
for
there
are
one
or
two
things
that
I
badly
want
to
say
to
you
.
"
Lord
John
Roxton
and
I
turned
down
Vigo
Street
together
and
through
the
dingy
portals
of
the
famous
aristocratic
rookery
.
At
the
end
of
a
long
drab
passage
my
new
acquaintance
pushed
open
a
door
and
turned
on
an
electric
switch
.
A
number
of
lamps
shining
through
tinted
shades
bathed
the
whole
great
room
before
us
in
a
ruddy
radiance
.
Standing
in
the
doorway
and
glancing
round
me
,
I
had
a
general
impression
of
extraordinary
comfort
and
elegance
combined
with
an
atmosphere
of
masculine
virility
.
Everywhere
there
were
mingled
the
luxury
of
the
wealthy
man
of
taste
and
the
careless
untidiness
of
the
bachelor
.
Rich
furs
and
strange
iridescent
mats
from
some
Oriental
bazaar
were
scattered
upon
the
floor
.
Pictures
and
prints
which
even
my
unpractised
eyes
could
recognize
as
being
of
great
price
and
rarity
hung
thick
upon
the
walls
.
Sketches
of
boxers
,
of
ballet-girls
,
and
of
racehorses
alternated
with
a
sensuous
Fragonard
,
a
martial
Girardet
,
and
a
dreamy
Turner
.
But
amid
these
varied
ornaments
there
were
scattered
the
trophies
which
brought
back
strongly
to
my
recollection
the
fact
that
Lord
John
Roxton
was
one
of
the
great
all-round
sportsmen
and
athletes
of
his
day
.
A
dark-blue
oar
crossed
with
a
cherry-pink
one
above
his
mantel-piece
spoke
of
the
old
Oxonian
and
Leander
man
,
while
the
foils
and
boxing-gloves
above
and
below
them
were
the
tools
of
a
man
who
had
won
supremacy
with
each
.
Like
a
dado
round
the
room
was
the
jutting
line
of
splendid
heavy
game-heads
,
the
best
of
their
sort
from
every
quarter
of
the
world
,
with
the
rare
white
rhinoceros
of
the
Lado
Enclave
drooping
its
supercilious
lip
above
them
all
.
In
the
center
of
the
rich
red
carpet
was
a
black
and
gold
Louis
Quinze
table
,
a
lovely
antique
,
now
sacrilegiously
desecrated
with
marks
of
glasses
and
the
scars
of
cigar-stumps
.
On
it
stood
a
silver
tray
of
smokables
and
a
burnished
spirit-stand
,
from
which
and
an
adjacent
siphon
my
silent
host
proceeded
to
charge
two
high
glasses
.
Having
indicated
an
arm-chair
to
me
and
placed
my
refreshment
near
it
,
he
handed
me
a
long
,
smooth
Havana
.
Then
,
seating
himself
opposite
to
me
,
he
looked
at
me
long
and
fixedly
with
his
strange
,
twinkling
,
reckless
eyes
--
eyes
of
a
cold
light
blue
,
the
color
of
a
glacier
lake
.
Through
the
thin
haze
of
my
cigar-smoke
I
noted
the
details
of
a
face
which
was
already
familiar
to
me
from
many
photographs
--
the
strongly-curved
nose
,
the
hollow
,
worn
cheeks
,
the
dark
,
ruddy
hair
,
thin
at
the
top
,
the
crisp
,
virile
moustaches
,
the
small
,
aggressive
tuft
upon
his
projecting
chin
.
Something
there
was
of
Napoleon
III
.
,
something
of
Don
Quixote
,
and
yet
again
something
which
was
the
essence
of
the
English
country
gentleman
,
the
keen
,
alert
,
open-air
lover
of
dogs
and
of
horses
.
His
skin
was
of
a
rich
flower-pot
red
from
sun
and
wind
.
His
eyebrows
were
tufted
and
overhanging
,
which
gave
those
naturally
cold
eyes
an
almost
ferocious
aspect
,
an
impression
which
was
increased
by
his
strong
and
furrowed
brow
.
In
figure
he
was
spare
,
but
very
strongly
built
--
indeed
,
he
had
often
proved
that
there
were
few
men
in
England
capable
of
such
sustained
exertions
.
His
height
was
a
little
over
six
feet
,
but
he
seemed
shorter
on
account
of
a
peculiar
rounding
of
the
shoulders
.
Such
was
the
famous
Lord
John
Roxton
as
he
sat
opposite
to
me
,
biting
hard
upon
his
cigar
and
watching
me
steadily
in
a
long
and
embarrassing
silence
.
"
Well
,
"
said
he
,
at
last
,
"
we
've
gone
and
done
it
,
young
fellah
my
lad
.
"
(
This
curious
phrase
he
pronounced
as
if
it
were
all
one
word
--
"
young-fellah-me-lad
.
"
)
"
Yes
,
we
've
taken
a
jump
,
you
an
'
me
.
I
suppose
,
now
,
when
you
went
into
that
room
there
was
no
such
notion
in
your
head
--
what
?
"
"
No
thought
of
it
.
"
"
The
same
here
.
No
thought
of
it
.
And
here
we
are
,
up
to
our
necks
in
the
tureen
.
Why
,
I
've
only
been
back
three
weeks
from
Uganda
,
and
taken
a
place
in
Scotland
,
and
signed
the
lease
and
all
.
Pretty
goin
's
on
--
what
?
How
does
it
hit
you
?
"
