Читать книгу Сельский вампир и другие истории Отца Брауна / Vampire of the Village and other Father Brown Stories. Уровень 3 онлайн | страница 1

© Минко А. А., адаптация, словарь, 2022

© ООО «Издательство АСТ», 2022

At the twist of a road in the hills, where two trees stood up like pyramids much tallerthan the small village of Potter’s Pond, just a group of houses, there once walked a man in a costume of a very interesting cut and colour, wearing a bright magenta jacketand a white hat on top of black beautiful hair.

was but one of the many riddleswere eventually solved in solving the mystery

he had been overheard apparently arguingthough probably only made with some sort of club

there was something rich and fruity about his body shape and rather red faceIn spite of the somewhat heavy appearance of the doctora man of very remarkable sensewhom he get familiar with over a poisoning case long ago

The spinsters are really spinsters – damn it, you could almost see them spinwho is just like a Dickens illustration

‘I think,’ said Father Brown, ‘there are always a certain number of Admirals left on the shore. But I never understood why they get so far inland.’

expressions as lively as anything in the BibleBright Young Things

‘The Bright Young Things don’t enjoy it,’ said Father Brown. ‘That is the real tragedy.’

‘But I am naturally more in touch with the world than the people in this old village,’ said the doctor. ‘And I had reached a point when I almost welcomed the Great Scandal.’

‘Don’t say the Bright Young Things have found Potter’s Pond after all,’ said the priest, smiling.

Need I sayIt would be almost irregular, if the clergyman’s son were quite regularis next door to

‘Surely,’ said Father Brown, ‘even in Potter’s Pond that cannot be the Great Scandal.’

‘No,’ replied the doctor seriously. ‘The Great Scandal began like this. In the house called The Grange, placed at the end of The Grove, there lives a lady. A Lonely Lady. She calls herself Mrs Maltravers (that is how we put it); but she only came a year or two ago and nobody knows anything about her. “I can’t think why she wants to live here,” said Miss Carstairs-Carew; “we do not visither.”’