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Livros. Notícias. Rumores. Apontamentos.

Inéditos de Hammett

Rainey screwed himself around in his chair to see us better, or to let us see him better.
I was sitting next to him, a little to the rear. Above the porch rail his profile stood out sharp against the twilight gray of the lake, though there was nothing sharp about the profile itself. It had been smoothly rounded by thirty-five or more years of comfortable living.
«I wouldn't have a dog that was cat-shy,» he wound up. «What good is a dog, or a man, that's afraid of things?»
Metcalf, the engineer, agreed with his employer. I had never seen him do anything else in the three days I had known them.
«Quite right,» he said. «Useless.»
Rainey twisted his face farther around to look at me. His blue eyes – large and clear – had the confident glow they always wore when he talked. You only had to have him look at you once like that to understand why he was a successful promoter.


Extracto de «So I Shot Him», um dos quinze contos inéditos de Dashiell Hammett descobertos pelo editor da The Strand Magazine nos arquivos do Harry Ransom Centre (University of Texas).