Читать книгу A Gift from Nessus - William McIlvanney - Страница 13

7

The clatter of typewriter keys in the main office punctured his concentration like buckshot. He was sitting in Annette’s glorified cubicle adjoining Morton’s sanctum. Through the glass partition that separated him from the main office, he could see the rows of well groomed girls chained to their tasks, an industrial harem. That noise was all he needed. He had wakened with a head like an open wound, and every sound was salt to it. Now the pain in his stomach was starting up again. It promised to be quite a day.