Остаток дня / The Remains of the Day - стр. 49
I must have paused a little to form my next phrase, for Mr Cardinal gave a sigh and said:
‘I’m only too aware of that, Stevens. Would you mind coming to the point?’
‘You are aware, sir?’
‘Father is perpetually underestimating me. I’ve done extensive reading and background work on this whole area.’
‘Is that so, sir?’
‘I’ve thought about virtually nothing else for the past month.’
‘Really, sir. In that case, perhaps my message is rather redundant.’
‘You can assure Father I’m very well briefed indeed. This attaché case’ – he nudged it with his foot – ‘is chock-full of notes on every possible angle one can imagine.’
‘Is that so, sir?’
‘I really think I’ve thought through every permutation the human mind is capable of. I wish you’d reassure Father of that.’
‘I will, sir.’
Mr Cardinal seemed to relax a little. He prodded once more his attaché case – which I felt inclined to keep my eyes averted from – and said:
‘I suppose you’ve been wondering why I never let go of this case. Well, now you know. Imagine if the wrong person opened it.’
‘That would be most awkward, sir.’
‘That is, of course,’ he said, sitting up again suddenly, ‘unless Father has come up with an entirely new factor he wants me to think about.’
‘I cannot imagine he has, sir.’
‘No? Nothing more on this Dupont fellow?’
‘I fear not, sir.’
I did my best not to give away anything of my exasperation on discovering that a task I had thought all but behind me was in fact still there unassaulted before me. I believe I was collecting my thoughts for a renewed effort when the young gentleman suddenly rose to his feet, and clutching his attaché case to his person, said:
‘Well, I think I’ll go and take a little fresh air. Thanks for your help, Stevens.’
It had been my intention to seek out a further interview with Mr Cardinal with minimum delay, but this proved to be impossible, owing largely to the arrival that same afternoon – some two days earlier than expected – of Mr Lewis, the American senator. I had been down in my pantry working through the supplies sheets, when I had heard somewhere above my head the unmistakable sounds of motor cars pulling up in the courtyard. As I hastened to go upstairs, I happened to encounter Miss Kenton in the back corridor – the scene, of course, of our last disagreement – and it was perhaps this unhappy coincidence that encouraged her to maintain the childish behaviour she had adopted on that previous occasion. For when I inquired who it was that had arrived, Miss Kenton continued past me, stating simply: