Марсианские хроники

           "MissBlunt!"

           "Yes,"saidMissBlunt,standingthere.

           "ButIjustsawyoucrammeduptheflue!"

           "No,"laughedMissBlunt."Arobotofmyself.Acleverfacsimile!"

           "But,but…"

           "Don’tcrydarling.I’mquiteallright.Letmelookatmyself.Well,sothereIam!Upthechimney.Likeyousaid.Isn’tthatfunny?"

           MissBluntwalkedaway,laughing.

           "Haveadrink,Garrett?"

           "IbelieveIwill.Thatunnervedme.MyGod,whataplace.Thisdoesdeservetearingdown.Foramomentthere…"

           Garrettdrank.

           Anotherscream.Mr.Steffens,borneupontheshouldersoffourwhiterabbits,wascarrieddownaflightofstairswhichmagicallyappearedinthefloor.IntoapitwentMr.Steffens,where,boundandtied,hewaslefttofacetheadvancingrazorsteelofagreatpendulumwhichnowwhirleddown,down,closerandclosertohisoutragedbody.

           "Isthatmedownthere?"saidMr.Steffens,appearingatGarrett’selbow.Hebentoverthepit."Howstrange,howodd,toseeyourselfdie."

           Thependulummadeafinalstroke.

           "Howrealistic,"saidMr.Steffens,turningaway.

           "Anotherdrink,Mr.Garrett?"

           "Yes,please."

           "Itwon’tbelong.TheDismantlerswillbehere."

           "ThankGod!"

           Andforathirdtime,ascream.

           "Whatnow?"saidGarrettapprehensively.

           "It’smyturn,"saidMissDrummond."Look."

           AndasecondMissDruxnmond,shrieking,wasnailedintoacoffinandthrustintotherawearthunderthefloor.

           "Why,Irememberthat,"gaspedtheInvestigatorofMoralClimates."Fromtheoldforbiddenbooks.