Читать книгу Сердце тьмы. Уровень 2 / Heart of Darkness - Джозеф Конрад, Ford Madox Hueffer - Страница 5

A narrow and deserted street in deep shadow, high houses, innumerable windows with venetian blinds, a dead silence, grass between the stones, carriage archways right and left, immense double doors. I slipped through one of these cracks, went up a swept and ungarnished staircase and opened the first door. Two women, one fat and the other slim, sat on straw-bottomed chairs. They were knitting black wool. The slim one got up and walked straight at me. She was still knitting with downcast eyes. Then she stood still, and looked up. Her dress was as plain as an umbrella-cover. She turned round without a word and preceded me into a waiting-room.

I gave my name, and looked about. Deal table in the middle, plain chairs all round the walls, on one end a large shining map. There was a vast amount of red and blue, a little green, smears of orange, and, on the East Coast, a purple patch. However, I wasn’t going into any of these. I was going into the yellow. Dead in the centre. And the river was there – fascinating, deadly – like a snake.

Ough! A door opened. A white-haired secretarial head appeared. A skinny forefinger beckoned me into the sanctuary. Its light was dim. A heavy writing-desk squatted in the middle. From behind that structure came out an impression of pale plumpness in a frock-coat. The great man himself. He was five feet six[11], I think. He shook hands, I fancy, murmured vaguely, was satisfied with my French. Bon voyage[12].