The professor wore a white
dinner-jacket, his hair was white, he had white morning stubble on his chin,
and he carried a revolver in his hand which he pointed at Wormold. Wormold saw that the woman behind him was
very young and very pretty. She stooped
and turned off the gramophone.
“Forgive me for calling on you
at this hour,” Wormold said. He had no
idea how he should begin, and he was disquieted by the revolver. Professors ought not to carry revolvers.
(from Our Man in
Havana by Graham Greene)
6*/10. The
complete review is here.
.
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