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- Фрэнк Герберт
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They
think
him
drunk
,
Jessica
thought
.
Leto
lifted
his
water
flagon
,
held
it
aloft
where
the
suspensor
lights
shot
beams
of
reflection
off
it
.
“
As
a
Chevalier
of
the
Imperium
,
then
,
”
he
said
,
“
I
give
you
a
toast
.
”
The
others
grasped
their
flagons
,
all
eyes
focused
on
the
Duke
.
In
the
sudden
stillness
,
a
suspensor
light
drifted
slightly
in
an
errant
breeze
from
the
serving
kitchen
hallway
.
Shadows
played
across
the
Duke
’
s
hawk
features
.
“
Here
I
am
and
here
I
remain
!
”
he
barked
.
There
was
an
abortive
movement
of
flagons
toward
mouths
—
stopped
as
the
Duke
remained
with
arm
upraised
.
“
My
toast
is
one
of
those
maxims
so
dear
to
our
hearts
:
‘
Business
makes
progress
!
Fortune
passes
everywhere
!
’
”
He
sipped
his
water
.
The
others
joined
him
.
Questioning
glances
passed
among
them
.
“
Gurney
!
”
the
Duke
called
.
From
an
alcove
at
Leto
’
s
end
of
the
room
came
Halleck
’
s
voice
.
“
Here
,
my
Lord
.
”
