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- Clarke Arthur C. Odyseja kosmiczna 3001
- Diana Palmer Hutton & Co 01 Once In Paris
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- Diana Palmer Maggie's Dad (pdf)
- Kotler prof. Philip Produkty przemijają, idee marketingowe  nie
- Edgar Rice Burroughs MarsjaśÂski 02 Pelluc
- 0128. Cross Melinda Legenda o miśÂośÂci
- Antologia Złota podkowa 41 Fatalny sztylet i inne opowiadania
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bit closer touch with the silent corridors outside, even though they held nothing but the ghosts of
unhappy stenographers and neurotic dames my imagination had raised on the way up.
Is the plastic film part of an alarm system? I asked. The Doctor didn t answer. His back was to me. I
remembered that he d shown himself a shade deaf. But I didn t get a chance to repeat my question for
just then some indirect lighting came on, although Slyker wasn t near any switch ( Our talk triggers it,
he said) and the office absorbed me.
Naturally the desk was the first thing I looked for, though I felt foolish doing it. It was a big deep job
with a dark soft gleam that might have been that of fine-grained wood or metal. The drawers were file
size, not the shallow ones my imagination had played with, and there were three tiers of them to the right
of the kneehole space enough for a couple of life-size girls if they were doubled up according to one
of the formulas for the hidden operator of Mael-zel s chess-playing automaton. My imagination, which
never learns, listened hard for the patter of tiny bare feet and the clatter of little tools. There wasn t even
the scurry of mice, which would have done something to my nerves, I m sure.
The office was an L with the door at the end of this leg. The walls I could see were mostly lined with
books, though a few line drawings had been hung my imagination had been right about Heinrich Kley,
though I didn t recognize these pen-and-ink originals, and there were some Fuselis you won t ever see
reproduced in books handled over the counter.
The desk was in the corner of the L with the components of a hi fi spaced along the bookshelves this
side of it. All I could see yet of the other leg of the L was a big surrealist armchair facing the desk but
separated from it by a wide low bare table. I took a dislike to that armchair on first sight, though it
looked extremely comfortable. Slyker had reached the desk now and had one hand on it as he turned
back toward me, and I got the impression that the armchair had changed shape since I had entered the
office that it had been more like a couch to start with, although now the back was almost straight
But the Doctor s left thumb indicated I was to sit in it and I couldn t see another chair in the place except
the padded button on which he was now settling himself one of those stenographer deals with a boxing-
glove back placed to catch you low in the spine like the hand of a knowledgeable masseur. In the other
leg of the L, besides the armchair, were more books, a heavy concertina blind sealing off the window,
two narrow doors that I supposed were those of a closet and a lavatory, and what looked like a slightly
scaled-down and windowless telephone booth until I guessed it must be an orgone box of the sort Reich
had invented to restore the libido when the patient occupies it. I quickly settled myself in the chair, not
to be gingerly about it. It was rather incredibly comfortable, almost as if it had adjusted its dimensions a
bit at the last instant to conform to mine. The back was narrow at the base but widened and then curled
in and over to almost a canopy around my head and shoulders. The seat too widened a lot toward the
front, where the stubby legs were far apart. The bulky arms sprang unsupported from the back and took
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my own just right, though curving inwards with the barest suggestion of a hug. The leather or unfamiliar
plastic was as firm and cool as young flesh and its texture as mat under my fingertips.
An historic chair, the Doctor observed, designed and built for me by von Helmholtz of the Bauhaus.
It has been occupied by all my best mediums during their so-called trance states. It was in that chair that
I established to my entire satisfaction the real existence of ectoplasm that elaboration of the mucous
membrane and occasionally the entire epidermis that is distantly analogous to the birth envelope and is
the fact behind the persistent legends of the snake-shedding of filmy live skins by human beings, and
which the spiritualist quacks are forever trying to fake with their fluorescent cheesecloth and doctored [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]