Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter VIII
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Alittleelectricbellonthewallnearathandtrilledawarning.Theyoungmanwhowasrulingformslaiddownhispen,andopeningthedoorofthePresident’soffice,thrustinhishead,thenafterawordexchangedwiththeunseenoccupantoftheroom,heswungthedoorwide,sayingtoPresley:
“Mr.Shelgrimwillseeyou,sir.”
Presleyenteredalarge,welllighted,butsingularlybarrenoffice.Awell-worncarpetwasonthefloor,twosteelengravingshungagainstthewall,anextrachairortwostoodnearalarge,plain,litteredtable.Thatwasabsolutelyall,unlessheexceptedthecornerwash-stand,onwhichwassetapitcheroficewater,coveredwithaclean,stiffnapkin.Aman,evidentlysomesortofmanager’sassistant,stoodattheendofthetable,leaningonthebackofoneofthechairs.Shelgrimhimselfsatatthetable.
Hewaslarge,almosttomassiveness.Aniron-greybeardandamustachethatcompletelyhidthemouthcoveredthelowerpartofhisface.Hiseyeswereapaleblue,andalittlewatery;hereandthereuponhisfaceweremothspots.Buttheenormousbreadthoftheshoulderswaswhat,atfirst,mostvividlyforceditselfuponPresley’snotice.Neverhadheseenabroaderman;theneck,however,seemedinamannertohavesettledintotheshoulders,andfurthermoretheywerehumpedandrounded,asiftobeargreatresponsibilities,andgreatabuse.