Человек-невидимка
Mr. Cuss Interviews the Stranger
"'It'sanemptysleeve,isit?Yousawitwasanemptysleeve?' Hestooduprightaway.Istooduptoo. Hecametowardsmeinthreeveryslowsteps,andstoodquiteclose.Sniffedvenomously. Ididn'tflinch,thoughI'mhangedifthatbandagedknobofhis,andthoseblinkers,aren'tenoughtounnerveanyone,comingquietlyuptoyou.
"'Yousaiditwasanemptysleeve?'hesaid. 'Certainly,'Isaid. Atstaringandsayingnothingabarefacedman,unspectacled,startsscratch. Thenveryquietlyhepulledhissleeveoutofhispocketagain,andraisedhisarmtowardsmeasthoughhewouldshowittomeagain. Hediditvery,veryslowly. Ilookedatit. Seemedanage. 'Well?'saidI,clearingmythroat,'there'snothinginit.'
"Hadtosaysomething.Iwasbeginningtofeelfrightened.Icouldseerightdownit. Heextendeditstraighttowardsme,slowly,slowly—justlikethat—untilthecuffwassixinchesfrommyface. Queerthingtoseeanemptysleevecomeatyoulikethat! Andthen—"
"Well?"
"Something—exactlylikeafingerandthumbitfelt—nippedmynose."
Buntingbegantolaugh.
"Therewasn'tanythingthere!"saidCuss,hisvoicerunningupintoashriekatthe"there." "It'sallverywellforyoutolaugh,butItellyouIwassostartled,Ihithiscuffhard,andturnedaround,andcutoutoftheroom—Ilefthim—"
Cussstopped. Therewasnomistakingthesincerityofhispanic. Heturnedroundinahelplesswayandtookasecondglassoftheexcellentvicar'sveryinferiorsherry.