Американские боги
Chapter 7
"Itiseleventhirty-five,"saysSalim.
Thewomanglancesattheclockonthewall,andsays,"Yed,"again."Idid."
"Myappointmentwasforeleven,"saysSalimwithaplacatingsmile.
"MisterBlandingknowsyou’rehere,"shetellshim,reprovingly.BidterBladdigdodeyou’rehere.
SalimpicksupanoldcopyoftheNewYorkPostfromthetable.HespeaksEnglishbetterthanhereadsit,andhepuzzleshiswaythroughthestorieslikeamandoingacrosswordpuzzle.Hewaits,aplumpyoungmanwiththeeyesofahurtpuppy,glancingfromhiswatchtohisnewspapertotheclockonthewall.
Attwelvethirtyseveralmencomeoutfromtheinneroffice.Theytalkloudly,jabberingawaytoeachotherinAmerican.Oneofthem,abig,paunchyman,hasacigar,unlit,inhismouth.HeglancesatSalimashecomesout.Hetellsthewomanbehindthedesktotrythejuiceofalemon,andzinc,ashissisterswearsbyzinc,andvitaminC.Shepromiseshimthatshewill,andgiveshimseveralenvelopes.Hepocketsthemandthenhe,andtheothermen,gooutintothehall.Thesoundoftheirlaughterdisappearsdownthestairwell.
Itisoneo’clock.Thewomanbehindthedeskopensadrawerandtakesoutabrownpaperbag,fromwhichsheremovesseveralsandwiches,anapple,andaMilkyWay.Shealsotakesoutasmallplasticbottleoffreshlysqueezedorangejuice.
