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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 359/416
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There
was
a
pause
.
Presley
all
attention
,
listened
breathlessly
.
The
assistant
manager
laid
before
his
President
the
typewritten
order
in
question
.
The
silence
lengthened
;
in
the
hall
outside
,
the
wrought
-
iron
door
of
the
elevator
cage
slid
to
with
a
clash
.
Shelgrim
did
not
look
at
the
order
.
He
turned
his
swivel
chair
about
and
faced
the
windows
behind
him
,
looking
out
with
unseeing
eyes
.
At
last
he
spoke
:
“
Tentell
has
a
family
,
wife
and
three
children
.
How
much
do
we
pay
him
?
”
“
One
hundred
and
thirty
.
”
“
Let
’
s
double
that
,
or
say
two
hundred
and
fifty
.
Let
’
s
see
how
that
will
do
.
”
“
Why
—
of
course
—
if
you
say
so
,
but
really
,
Mr
.
Shelgrim
”
“
Well
,
we
’
ll
try
that
,
anyhow
.
”
Presley
had
not
time
to
readjust
his
perspective
to
this
new
point
of
view
of
the
President
of
the
P
.
and
S
.
W
.
before
the
assistant
manager
had
withdrawn
.
Shelgrim
wrote
a
few
memoranda
on
his
calendar
pad
,
and
signed
a
couple
of
letters
before
turning
his
attention
to
Presley
.
At
last
,
he
looked
up
and
fixed
the
young
man
with
a
direct
,
grave
glance
.
He
did
not
smile
.
It
was
some
time
before
he
spoke
.
At
last
,
he
said
:
“
Well
,
sir
.
”
Presley
advanced
and
took
a
chair
nearer
at
hand
.
Shelgrim
turned
and
from
his
desk
picked
up
and
consulted
Presley
’
s
card
.
Presley
observed
that
he
read
without
the
use
of
glasses
.
“
You
,
”
he
said
,
again
facing
about
,
“
you
are
the
young
man
who
wrote
the
poem
called
’
The
Toilers
.
’
”
