Robert Langdon's duckling. There was a phone ringing. Its all weak and unfamiliar.
He wanders, looks for a lamp at the end of the bed, lights it up, and with half closed eyes, looks around and finds himself in a fancy squeeze room.
The Renaissance is furnished with Louis XVI's decor and the walls are decorated with a hand-painted frescoe with a large mahogany bed with four raised legs.
He looked at his bathrobe, the jaguard, hanging near his bed, and found it had a hotel logo on it.
Ritz Pres.
Sheena and Sheena, the clouds are beginning to unfold.
Langdon picked up the phone?
"Mr. Langdon? I hope it didn't wake you up. Langdon still looked at the clock near his bed, which was.12:32 at night, only one hour of sleep but he felt as if dead I am the receptionist, Sir, I apologize, but you have a visitor who insists on seeing you.
Urgent.
Langdon still feels confused, a visitor? Now his eyes are focused on a discarded card.
On the table near his bed.
American University of Paris
Have the honour to present
An Evening With Rowert Lagdon
A professor of religious symbolism at Harvard.
They're Lannon lost, and that's the lecture he gave tonight - where he gave a video
The hereditary symbolism hidden in the stones of Chartres Cathedral must have struck the delicate strings of some conservative audience. One of my sturdy students probably followed me.
To fight with me.
And I'm sorry, Langdon said, but I feel really tired and...
But, Sir, the receptionist insisted, kept it down, and became a persistent whisperer, "Your guest."
A big shot.
Langdon had no doubt about it.
Last year, Langdon's presence and fame grew considerably after his involvement in a Vanico incident took on more publicity than her own. From then on, it seemed as if the stream of upstart historians and art tyrants who wanted to see him would never stop.
If you please, Langdon did his best to keep his father, "Would you please register a name?
The guy and his number, and you tell him where I'll try to call him before I leave Paris on Tuesday? Thank you." Then he hung up before leaving a magazine for the receptionist, Gus Langdon, now intercepted, polarizing at the end of his bed, a guest-relationship brochure that he wrote.
Bold on the cover: Sleep as a child in the city of lights, sleep in Ritter Paris. Langdon turned around and stared tirelessly at the long mirror at the back of the room. The man he sees in the mirror was a weirdo and tired man. Robert, you need a vacation
It was a conspiracy that led to the death of the victim.
His usually sharp blue eyes appear confused and jealous tonight. His sharp lower jaw and chin tone were given a dark color because of the growing beard. Around the temples, some of the gray hair stretched deep into his thick, coarse black hair. Despite the fact that his colleagues insisted that grey would reflect his objectionable academic appearance... Except it wouldn't work if Boston could see me right now.
Last month, in an embarrassment to the survivor, Boston magazine happened to have
She listed him as one of the most sidebar men in the city - a dubious honor that made him the site of the endless comments of his Harvard colleagues. And tonight, 3,000 miles from home, the hype of it had resurfaced and followed him in his lecture.
Ladies and gentlemen... I announced the introduction to the entire audience in the big pavilion.
Of the American University of Pres, "Our guest today needs no introduction. He is the author of several books, including: Symbolism in Secret doctrines, Curtain Class Art, and the Lost Symbolic Writing Language. When I say that he wrote the book on religious ICONS, I mean it literally." Many of you go back to his books as university references. So, or the students agree with enthusiasm.
And I had planned to introduce him tonight by talking about his career. Except that..." And I waited.
Merrily to Langdon, who was sitting on the podium, the audience here just gave me an introduction that Professor Langdon may be... More like
Sentimental. Langdon shrunk on himself. Oh, my God, where did you get the magazine?
The introduction begins with a reading of that silly article, and Langdon feels that
Sheena grumbles and we stumbled into his chair.
Thirty seconds later, people were whispering smiling, and it wasn't the preface.
Langdon's refusal to give his opinion about his dismay in the fight against the Sarze killing last year has certainly earned him additional points on our scale of side and ambiguity. The provoking presenter added, "You want to hear more?" ... And the applause of the audience.
Langdon begged himself as she dived back into the article.
Although Professor Angdon may not consider Asanta the younger, this academic, over 40 years old, has an intellectual culprit that is far from insignificant: his family presence is directed by the faint, male voice that his students describe as "Chocolate Ears."
The hall burst in laughter.
Langdon creates an artificial smile, he knows what comes next - a silly comment about what
"Harrison Ford is said to be in a Harris suit" -because this evening he had read Burbery, he would finally be able to wear his Harris daughter and his Berberius sweater. Once again in peace, so he decided to do it
"Langdon said so and stood up before she stopped talking and saluted her away from me
The platform, he said, Boston Magazine obviously had a lot of imagination. And she met me
The audience said with embarrassment, "And if I know who gave Monique the article, I will ask the consulate to deport him."
The audience laughed at his comment." Well, guys, as you all know, I'm here tonight to talk about the power of symbols."
The hotel phone ringing again broke the barrier of silence that looped over Langdon's room.
"Langdon hum disbelief, pick up the phone. Yeah?
I repeat my apologies, I called to let you know.
"The guest to see you is on his way to your room.
Have you sent someone to my room?
I'm sorry, Sir, but a man like that... I don't think I have enough power to stop him.
Who exactly is this person?
But the receptionist had hung up.
And I immediately grabbed a little fist knocking on the door of a room to feed.
He slipped out of his bed hesitantly and he felt his toes were sinking deep into
"The soft carpet and then put on the hotel bathrobe and walk to the door"?
Mr. Langdon? I have to talk to you.
The man spoke English with a clear accent - a sharp official accent and a loud voice.
My name is Lieutenant Goberum Collet. The Central Department of Judicial Police "Langdon stops a minute. Judicial Police? Judicial police was a tough word.
The Federal Bureau of Investigation in the United States.
Langdon opened the door several inches, leaving the safety chain on the door.
Closed. The face he was staring at was skinny and tired, and the man was very scrawny, wearing a uniform.
The policeman asked, "Can I come in?
Langdon's hesitation is unsure if he'll let him in while the man's eyes were on.
"What's the problem?
My boss needs your expertise on a special topic.
"Is it true that this evening you were on a date with the curator at the Silver Museum?"
Langdon suddenly felt a wave of turbulence, he was supposed to meet
Reverend Jack Sauniere, a drinker after his lecture tonight, but...
Sauniere didn't eat. Yeah, but how do you know that?
We found your name in his journal.
"I hope it's not a problem?
So the policeman cries out with grief and immediately passes a picture through the narrow hatch.
I have his version of the picture, Langdon sticking in place, his whole body stiffening up.
This photograph was taken less than an hour ago in the Louvre.
AS LANGDON CONSIDERED THE WEST IMAGE, HIS REACTION TURNED FROM SURPRISE AND SHOCK TO A WAVE
". Infuriated. Who can do something like that?
We were hoping that you will be able to help us answer this particular question because
"For your expertise in cryptography and your intention to meet him.
Langdon gazed at the picture and was now associated with fear. The picture was disgusting.
And strangely enough, it brought with it a feeling of confusion that he had seen this scene before. A little more than a year earlier, Langdon had received a photograph and a similar request for help and 24 hours later he had almost lost his life within the vanilla city. This picture is quite a remnant of that, but still, there's something about this scenario that seems to be worryingly familiar.
Sir, my boss is waiting.
Langdon barely heard it. His eyes are still dark in the picture." This symbol here, and the very alluring way his grandfather looked."
The policeman donated, "Humble?
Uma Langdon, with his head chilling over his body as he looked up."
I can imagine who could do that to anyone.
"... The policeman looked grim, Mr. Langdon. You dont understand.
"And stop for a while, Mr. Sauniere did it himself.
