Отруєний пояс
Chapter I. The Blurring Of Lines
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"Imustsay,ProfessorSummerlee,thatyourmannersdonotseemtohaveimprovedsinceIlasthadthepleasureofmeetingyou,"saidLordJohnseverely.
"Youlordlingsarenotaccustomedtohearthetruth,"Summerleeansweredwithabittersmile."Itcomesasabitofashock,doesitnot,whensomeonemakesyourealizethatyourtitleleavesyounonethelessaveryignorantman?"
"Uponmyword,sir,"saidLordJohn,verysternandrigid,"ifyouwereayoungermanyouwouldnotdaretospeaktomeinsooffensiveafashion."
Summerleethrustouthischin,withitslittlewaggingtuftofgoateebeard.
"Iwouldhaveyouknow,sir,that,youngorold,therehasneverbeenatimeinmylifewhenIwasafraidtospeakmymindtoanignorantcoxcomb—yes,sir,anignorantcoxcomb,ifyouhadasmanytitlesasslavescouldinventandfoolscouldadopt."
ForamomentLordJohn’seyesblazed,andthen,withatremendouseffort,hemasteredhisangerandleanedbackinhisseatwitharmsfoldedandabittersmileuponhisface.Tomeallthiswasdreadfulanddeplorable.Likeawave,thememoryofthepastsweptoverme,thegoodcomradeship,thehappy,adventurousdays—allthatwehadsufferedandworkedforandwon.Thatitshouldhavecometothis—toinsultsandabuse!SuddenlyIwassobbing—sobbinginloud,gulping,uncontrollablesobswhichrefusedtobeconcealed.Mycompanionslookedatmeinsurprise.Icoveredmyfacewithmyhands.
"It’sallright,"saidI."Only—onlyitissuchapity!"
"You’reill,youngfellah,that’swhat’samisswithyou,"saidLordJohn.
