Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter VI
”
Presleyhesitatedforamoment,thenheasked:
“Shallyougobacktothegardenagain?Makethetestagain?”“Idon’tknow.”
“Strangeenough,”commentedPresley,wondering.
Vanameesankbackinhischair,hiseyesgrowingvacantagain:
“Strangeenough,”hemurmured.
Therewasalongsilence.Neitherspokenormoved.There,inthatmoribund,ancienttown,wrappedinitssiesta,flagellatedwithheat,deserted,ignored,bakinginanoon-daysilence,thesetwostrangemen,theoneapoetbynature,theotherbytraining,bothoutoftunewiththeirworld,dreamers,introspective,morbid,lostandunfamiliaratthatend-of-the-centurytime,searchingforasign,gropingandbaffledamidsttheperplexingobscurityoftheDelusion,satoveremptywineglasses,silentwiththepervadingsilencethatsurroundedthem,hearingonlythecooingofdovesandthedroneofbees,thequietsoprofound,thatatlengththeycouldplainlydistinguishatintervalsthepuffingandcoughingofalocomotiveswitchingcarsinthestationyardofBonneville.
Itwas,nodoubt,thisjarringsoundthatatlengthrousedPresleyfromhislethargy.Thetwofriendsrose;Solotariverysleepilycameforward;theypaidfortheluncheon,andsteppingoutintotheheatandglareofthestreetsofthetown,passedonthroughitandtooktheroadthatlednorthwardacrossacornerofDyke’shopfields.TheywereboundforthehillsinthenortheasterncornerofQuienSabe.ItwasthesamewalkwhichPresleyhadtakenonthepreviousoccasionwhenhehadfirstmetVanameeherdingthesheep.
