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Conklin, Groff (ed) - In the Grip of Terror / Конклин, Грофф (ред) - В тисках ужаса [1951, EPUB, ENG]

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Groff Conklin (ed) - In the Grip of Terror

Название: In the Grip of Terror / В тисках ужаса
Год выпуска: 1951
Под редакцией: Conklin, Groff / Конклин, Грофф
Издательство: Permabooks
ISBN: НЕТ
Формат: EPUB
Качество: OCR
Язык: английский

Описание:
Страшные истории разных времен. Среди авторов: Ray Bradbury, Dorothy L. Sayers, Murray Leinster, H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Theodore Sturgeon, Ambrose Bierce ...
The Last Kiss short story by Maurice Level
The Illustrated Man / Человек в картинках short story by Ray Bradbury
The Upturned Face / Запрокинутое лицо short story by Stephen Crane
The Incredible Elopement of Lord Peter Wimsey / Невероятное путешествие лорда Питера Уимзи novelette by Dorothy L. Sayers
The Horror-Horn / Рог ужаса short story by E. F. Benson
Night Drive short story by Murray Leinster (as by Will F. Jenkins)
In the Vault / В склепе short story by H. P. Lovecraft
The Diary of a Madman / Сумасшедший? short story by Guy de Maupassant
The Tool / Орудие short story by William Fryer Harvey
Bianca's Hands / Руки Бьянки short story by Theodore Sturgeon
The Cross of Carl novella by Walter Owen
Hathor's Pets short story by Margaret St. Clair
A Terribly Strange Bed / Странная кровать short story by Wilkie Collins
The Well / Колодец short story by W. W. Jacobs
Revenge / Месть short story by Samuel Blas
The Pit and the Pendulum / Колодец и маятник short story by Edgar Allan Poe
Macklin's Little Friend short story by Howard Wandrei (as by H. W. Guernsey)
The Easter Egg / Пасхальное яйцо short story by Saki (as by H. H. Munro)
Problem in Murder / Проблема с убийством novelette by H. L. Gold
The Moth / Бабочка — «Genus Novo» short story by H. G. Wells
A Resumed Identity / Обретённое тождество short story by Ambrose Bierce
Bubbles short story by Wilbur Daniel Steele
A TERRIBLY STRANGE BED
By Wilkie Collins


Shortly after my education at college was finished, I happened to be staying at Paris with an English friend. We were both young, and Jived rather a wild life.
One night I said to my friend, “Let us go somewhere where we can see a little genuine gambling, with no false glitter thrown over it. Let us get away from fashionable Frascati’s to a house where they don’t mind letting in a man with a ragged coat.”
“Very well,” said he, “we needn’t go out of the Palais Royal to find the sort of company you want. Here’s the place just before us; as blackguard a place as you could possibly want to see.”
. . .
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