Машина часу

           Hesmiledquietly,inhisoldway. ‘Where’smymutton?’hesaid. ‘Whatatreatitistostickaforkintomeatagain!’ 

           ‘Story!’criedtheEditor. 

           ‘Storybedamned!’saidtheTimeTraveller. ‘Iwantsomethingtoeat. Iwon’tsayaworduntilIgetsomepeptoneintomyarteries. Thanks. Andthesalt.’ 

           ‘Oneword,’saidI. ‘Haveyoubeentimetravelling?’ 

           ‘Yes,’saidtheTimeTraveller,withhismouthfull,noddinghishead. 

           ‘I’dgiveashillingalineforaverbatimnote,’saidtheEditor. TheTimeTravellerpushedhisglasstowardstheSilentManandrangitwithhisfingernail; atwhichtheSilentMan,whohadbeenstaringathisface,startedconvulsively,andpouredhimwine. Therestofthedinnerwasuncomfortable. Formyownpart,suddenquestionskeptonrisingtomylips,andIdaresayitwasthesamewiththeothers. TheJournalisttriedtorelievethetensionbytellinganecdotesofHettiePotter. TheTimeTravellerdevotedhisattentiontohisdinner,anddisplayedtheappetiteofatramp. TheMedicalMansmokedacigarette,andwatchedtheTimeTravellerthroughhiseyelashes. TheSilentManseemedevenmoreclumsythanusual,anddrankchampagnewithregularityanddeterminationoutofsheernervousness. AtlasttheTimeTravellerpushedhisplateaway,andlookedroundus. ‘IsupposeImustapologize,’hesaid. ‘Iwassimplystarving. I’vehadamostamazingtime.’ Hereachedouthishandforacigar,andcuttheend. ‘Butcomeintothesmoking-room. It’stoolongastorytotellovergreasyplates.’ Andringingthebellinpassing,heledthewayintotheadjoiningroom. 

           ‘YouhavetoldBlank,andDash,andChoseaboutthemachine?’hesaidtome,leaningbackinhiseasy-chairandnamingthethreenewguests. 

           ‘Butthething’samereparadox,’saidtheEditor.