The Invisible Man. B2 / Человек-невидимка

Hall noticed that the melted snow dripped upon her carpet. “Can I take your hat and coat, sir,” she said, “and give them a good dry in the kitchen?”

“No,” he said without turning.

She was not sure she had heard him, and was about to repeat her question.

He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. “I prefer to keep them on,” he said, and she noticed that he wore big blue spectacles and had bushy whiskers over his coat collar that completely hid his face.

“Very well, sir,” she said.

“As you like. In a while the room will be even warmer.”

He made no answer and turned his face away from her again, and Mrs. Hall laid the rest of the table things and whisked out of the room. When she returned he was still standing there, like a man of stone, his back hunched, his collar turned up, hiding his face and ears completely. She put down the eggs and bacon, and called rather than said to him, “Your lunch is served, sir.”

“Thank you,” he said and did not stir until she closed the door.

She noticed that he had taken off his coat and hat and put them on a chair in front of the fire. “Oh,” she thought, “his pair of wet boots can ruin my steel fender!” and said aloud, “I suppose I may dry them now,” she added in a voice that took no denial.

“Leave the hat,” said her visitor, in a muffled voice, and turning she saw he had raised his head and was sitting and looking at her.

For a moment she stood gaping at him, too surprised to speak.

He was holding a white cloth-it was a serviette he had brought with him-over the lower part of his face, so that his mouth and jaws were completely hidden, and that was the reason for his muffled voice.

But it was not that which startled Mrs. Hall. It was the fact that all his forehead above his blue glasses was covered by a white bandage, and that another covered his ears, leaving only his pink nose. It was bright, pink, and shiny just as it had been at first.

He wore a dark-brown velvet jacket with a high, black collar turned up about his neck. His thick black hair, between the cross bandages, gave him the strangest appearance imaginable.

He did not remove the serviette, but remained holding it with a brown gloved hand. “Leave the hat,” he said, speaking very distinctly through the white cloth.

Her nerves began to recover from the shock they had received. She placed the hat on the chair again by the fire.