Книга только для ознакомления
. He had a
slight, stubbly beard, unusual for kender.
The husband stepped up closer to the Bench of Authority,
addressing the mayor directly. "Did you realize that the history of
the rare gnome rock tumbler -- a drum-shaped, crank-driven device used
to reduce stones to sand -- is long and very interesting? No, I'm sure
you didn't. In fact, many experts believe that throughout the ages,
rock tumblers have played a large part in the development of the world
as we know it. None of us might be alive if there weren't rock
tumblers! Many people don't know that, but --"
"I know it!" the wife complained, clapping her hands to her
ears. "It's all I ever hear, especially after he pulverizes my
prettiest rocks!"
The man turned to his wife. "It wasn't my fault that your rocks
got tumbled," he said defensively. "You left them sitting out where
just anyone could take them, so I put them in my tumbler for safe
keeping. Only I forgot they were in there the next time I tumbled some
rocks."
"Out where just anyone could find them? They were locked up in
two boxes and hidden under a loose floorboard before the fire!" she
cried, giving his arm a vicious punch.
"Exactly!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm and pulling away.
"Everyone knows to look under floorboards! Nobody would think to look
for gems in a rock tumbler! Don't you agree, Mayor?"
"Huh? What?" Metwinger asked, looking up guiltily from under the
table. He'd found their argument tedious and had turned his attention
to the shiny buckles on councilman Barlow Twackdinger's boots
|