Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Butsuddenlyhewasawareofacommotion,issuingfromthedirectionofAnnixter’sroom,andthevoiceofAnnixterhimselfupraisedinexpostulationandexasperation.ThedooroftheroomtowhichAnnixterhadbeenassignedopenedwithaviolentwrenchandanangryvoiceexclaimedtoanybodywhowouldlisten:

           “Oh,yes,funny,isn’tit?Inaway,it’sfunny,andthen,again,inawayitisn’t.”

           Thedoorbangedtosothatallthewindowsofthehouserattledintheirframes.

           Harranhurriedoutintothedining-roomandtheremetPresleyandhisfather,whohadbeenarousedaswellbyAnnixter’sclamour.Ostermanwasthere,too,hisbaldheadgleaminglikeabulbofivoryinthelightofthelampthatMagnuscarried.

           “What’sallup?”demandedOsterman.“WhateverintheworldisthematterwithBuck?”

           ConfusedandterriblesoundscamefrombehindthedoorofAnnixter’sroom.Aprolongedmonologueofgrievance,brokenbyexplosionsofwrathandthevaguenoiseofsomeoneinafurioushurry.AllatonceandbeforeHarranhadachancetoknockonthedoor,Annixterflungitopen.Hisfacewasblazingwithanger,hisoutthrustlipmoreprominentthanever,hiswiry,yellowhairindisarray,thetuftonthecrownstickingstraightintotheairliketheupraisedhacklesofanangryhound.Evidentlyhehadbeendressinghimselfwiththemostheadlongrapidity;hehadnotyetputonhiscoatandvest,butcarriedthemoverhisarm,whilewithhisdisengagedhandhekepthitchinghissuspendersoverhisshoulderswithapersistentandhypnoticgesture.