Lee este artículo en voz alta
Enciende el micrófono y lee a tu ritmo. Las palabras se iluminan sobre la marcha y nadie te detiene por un error.
Tu audio nunca llega a MovaReader: lo reconoce tu navegador. Política de Privacidad
Inicia sesión para guardar esta sesión en tu historial de lectura.
The Silver Swan: The Horologist's Disassembly
Arthur Pendleton adjusted the binocular magnifier strapped across his forehead, leaning over the velvet-lined tray where the swan's articulated silver neck lay uncoupled from its torso. It was twenty past five on a drizzling November evening at the Bowes Museum, and the gallery upstairs had long since emptied of visitors. Under the halogen lamp, several hundred individual components: chased silver feathers, miniature steel bevels, brass cam-discs, and coiled spring barrels, were arrayed in strict concentric sequences. The museum trustees expected the eighteenth-century automaton to preen its plumage and catch its silver fish at the bicentenary gala on Thursday, but the main drive arbor had seized solid. Had Arthur attempted to force the key arbor, the brittle, hand-filed teeth would have sheared instantly.
Seldom had a conservator encountered a machine so deceptively intricate.