Міжнародний епізод

           Here,afterbriefdelay,theyfoundthemselvesfacetofacewiththefriendoftheirfriendinLondon.Hisofficewascomposedofseveraldifferentrooms,andtheywaitedverysilentlyinoneofthemaftertheyhadsentintheirletterandtheircards.TheletterwasnotonewhichitwouldtakeMr.Westgateverylongtoread,buthecameouttospeaktothemmoreinstantlythantheycouldhaveexpected;hehadevidentlyjumpedupfromhiswork.Hewasatall,leanpersonageandwasdressedallinfreshwhitelinen;hehadathin,sharp,familiarface,withanexpressionthatwasatoneandthesametimesociableandbusinesslike,aquick,intelligenteye,andalargebrownmustache,whichconcealedhismouthandmadehischin,beneathit,looksmall.LordLambeththoughthelookedtremendouslyclever.“Howdoyoudo,LordLambeth—howdoyoudo,sir?”hesaid,holdingtheopenletterinhishand.“I’mverygladtoseeyou;Ihopeyou’reverywell.Youhadbettercomeinhere;Ithinkit’scooler,”andheledthewayintoanotherroom,wheretherewerelawbooksandpapers,andwindowswideopenbeneathstripedawning.Justoppositeoneofthewindows,onalinewithhiseyes,LordLambethobservedtheweathervaneofachurchsteeple.Theuproarofthestreetsoundedinfinitelyfarbelow,andLordLambethfeltveryhighintheair.“Isayit’scooler,”pursuedtheirhost,“buteverythingisrelative.Howdoyoustandtheheat?”“Ican’tsaywelikeit,”saidLordLambeth;“butBeaumontlikesitbetterthanI.”“Well,itwon’tlast,”Mr.