Читать книгу White Magic. A Novel онлайн

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The knock came again—right between his shoulder-blades with only the inch plank between.

It was as if those pretty knuckles of hers were tapping him on the back, on the spinal cord, which, as everyone knows, immediately radiates sensation to all parts of even such a huge body as was Chang’s. He grew quite pale, then an absurdly boyish red. He muttered something that sounded like “damn fool”—and it certainly must have been addressed to himself.

The knock came the third time, quickly—a triumphant knock, seeming to say, “So you’re in there, are you? Well, surrender at once!”

He wondered how she had found out, for he certainly had made no sound she could have heard. With the fourth and most vigorous knock he discovered the secret. He noted that his body against the door made the knock sound differently. He hastily lifted himself away, put his hands against the door high up above where she, merely a person of medium height, and woman’s medium height at that, could reach. When she knocked again he felt absurd. For the sound, hollow once more, must reveal to her that there was indeed some change of conditions within, proving beyond doubt the presence of some intelligent—or, at least, brain-using—being.