Читать книгу The Perfect World. A romance of strange people and strange places онлайн

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During the service Alan’s eyes were riveted on some peculiar characters that were inscribed on the walls, at intervals, as far as eye could reach. It was a group of hieroglyphics repeated over and over again, and there was something oddly familiar about them—yet he was unable to guess exactly what it was. Then the people’s voice rose in song—he listened intently. Again and again were the words repeated like a chorus and almost unconsciously he committed the sounds to memory.

Soon the service was ended and in triumph they were led back to Kaweeka’s house. She met them with renewed wiles and charm, but the boys were strong and she left them alone with rage in her heart. They ate the food that was placed before them in silence, a silence which Alan broke by saying abruptly, “Could you make out anything of the last hymn the people kept singing over and over again in the temple, Dez?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, could you understand it?”

Desmond looked surprised. “Of course not,” he laughed. “Could you?”