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- Стр. 117/357
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Then
he
heard
a
gasp
,
the
brief
patter
of
running
feet
,
and
the
slam
of
a
door
.
When
he
peered
around
the
nearest
bookcase
there
was
nothing
there
except
a
stool
with
a
couple
of
books
on
it
.
He
picked
one
up
and
glanced
at
the
name
,
then
read
a
few
pages
.
There
was
a
damp
lace
handkerchief
lying
next
to
it
.
Mort
rose
late
,
and
hurried
towards
the
kitchen
expecting
at
any
moment
the
deep
tones
of
disapproval
.
Nothing
happened
.
Albert
was
at
the
stone
sink
,
gazing
thoughtfully
at
his
chip
pan
,
probably
wondering
whether
it
was
time
to
change
the
fat
or
let
it
bide
for
another
year
.
He
turned
as
Mort
slid
into
a
chair
.
’
You
had
a
busy
tune
of
it
,
then
,
’
he
said
.
’
Gallivanting
all
over
the
place
until
all
hours
,
I
heard
.
I
could
do
you
an
egg
.
Or
there
’
s
porridge
.
’
’
Egg
,
please
,
’
said
Mort
.
He
’
d
never
plucked
up
the
courage
to
try
Albert
’
s
porridge
,
which
led
a
private
life
of
its
own
in
the
depths
of
its
saucepan
and
ate
spoons
.
’
The
master
wants
to
see
you
after
,
’
Albert
added
,
’
but
he
said
you
wasn
’
t
to
rush
.
’
’
Oh
.
’
Mort
stared
at
the
table
.
’
Did
he
say
anything
else
?
’
’
He
said
he
hadn
’
t
had
an
evening
off
in
a
thousand
years
,
’
said
Albert
.
’
He
was
humming
.
I
don
’
t
like
it
.
I
’
ve
never
seen
him
like
this
.
’
’
Oh
.
’
Mort
took
the
plunge
.
’
Albert
,
have
you
been
here
long
?
’
Albert
looked
at
him
over
the
top
of
his
spectacles
.
