Машина часу
Chapter 7
ThenthetallpinnaclesofthePalaceofGreenPorcelainandthepolishedgleamofitswallscamebacktomymemory; andintheevening,takingWeenalikeachilduponmyshoulder,Iwentupthehillstowardsthesouth-west. Thedistance,Ihadreckoned,wassevenoreightmiles,butitmusthavebeennearereighteen. Ihadfirstseentheplaceonamoistafternoonwhendistancesaredeceptivelydiminished. Inaddition,theheelofoneofmyshoeswasloose,andanailwasworkingthroughthesole—theywerecomfortableoldshoesIworeaboutindoors—sothatIwaslame. AnditwasalreadylongpastsunsetwhenIcameinsightofthepalace,silhouettedblackagainstthepaleyellowofthesky.
‘WeenahadbeenhugelydelightedwhenIbegantocarryher,butafterawhileshedesiredmetoletherdown,andranalongbythesideofme,occasionallydartingoffoneitherhandtopickflowerstostickinmypockets. MypocketshadalwayspuzzledWeena,butatthelastshehadconcludedthattheywereaneccentrickindofvaseforfloraldecoration. Atleastsheutilizedthemforthatpurpose. Andthatremindsme!InchangingmyjacketIfound...’
TheTimeTravellerpaused,puthishandintohispocket,andsilentlyplacedtwowitheredflowers,notunlikeverylargewhitemallows,uponthelittletable. Thenheresumedhisnarrative.
‘AsthehushofeveningcreptovertheworldandweproceededoverthehillcresttowardsWimbledon,Weenagrewtiredandwantedtoreturntothehouseofgreystone. ButIpointedoutthedistantpinnaclesofthePalaceofGreenPorcelaintoher,andcontrivedtomakeherunderstandthatwewereseekingarefugetherefromherFear. Youknowthatgreatpausethatcomesuponthingsbeforethedusk? Eventhebreezestopsinthetrees.
