Конец вечности
The Hidden Centuries
Hedidnotlookupwhenthe100,000thwaspassedinthedownwhendirectionandTwissellhadsnortedanobvioussighofreliefasthoughhehadhalfexpectedtobetrappedontheupwhenside.
HescarcelymovedwhenNoys’shandstoleintohis,andthemannerinwhichhereturnedthepressureofherfingerswasalmostmechanical.
NoyssleptinanotherroomandnowTwissell’srestlessnessreachedapeakofdevouringintensity.
"Theadvertisement,boy!Youhaveyourwoman.Mypartoftheagreementisdone."
Silently,stillabstracted,Harlanturnedthepagesofthevolumeonthedesk.Hefoundhispage.
"It’ssimpleenough,"hesaid,"butit’sinEnglish.I’llreadittoyouandthentranslateit."
Itwasasmalladvertisementintheupperleft-handcornerofapagenumbered30.Againstanirregularlinedrawingasbackgroundweretheunadornedwords,inblockletters:
ALLTHETALKOFTHEMARKET
Underneath,insmallerletters,itsaid;"InvestmentsNews-Letter,P.O.Box14,Denver,Colorado."
TwisselllistenedpainstakinglytoHarlan’stranslationandwasobviouslydisappointed.Hesaid,"Whatisthemarket?Whatdotheymeanbythat?"
"Thestockmarket,"saidHarlanimpatiently."Asystembywhichprivatecapitalwasinvestedinbusiness.Butthat’snotthepointatall.Don’tyouseethelinedrawingagainstwhichtheadvertisementisset?"
"Yes.
