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- Джон Джон Бакен
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- Стр. 18/83
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"
Good
evening
to
you
,
"
he
said
gravely
.
"
It
's
a
fine
night
for
the
road
.
"
The
smell
of
peat
smoke
and
of
some
savoury
roast
floated
to
me
from
the
house
.
"
Is
that
place
an
inn
?
"
I
asked
.
"
At
your
service
,
"
he
said
politely
.
"
I
am
the
landlord
,
sir
,
and
I
hope
you
will
stay
the
night
,
for
to
tell
you
the
truth
I
have
had
no
company
for
a
week
.
"
I
pulled
myself
up
on
the
parapet
of
the
bridge
and
filled
my
pipe
.
I
began
to
detect
an
ally
.
"
You
're
young
to
be
an
innkeeper
,
"
I
said
.
"
My
father
died
a
year
ago
and
left
me
the
business
.
I
live
there
with
my
grandmother
.
It
's
a
slow
job
for
a
young
man
,
and
it
was
n't
my
choice
of
profession
.
"
"
Which
was
?
"
He
actually
blushed
.
"
I
want
to
write
books
,
"
he
said
.
"
And
what
better
chance
could
you
ask
?
"
I
cried
.
