Мартин Иден

Chapter 31

           "Pompousoldass!" 

           ThesuddennessandthevirulenceoftheexclamationstartledMartin. Hefeltamused,andatthesametimewasawareofagrowingdislikefortheother. 

           "Whatdoyougotosuchaplacefor?"wasabruptlyflungathimafteranotherblockofsilence. 

           "Whydoyou?"Martincountered. 

           "Blessme,Idon’tknow,"cameback. "Atleastthisismyfirstindiscretion. Therearetwenty-fourhoursineachday,andImustspendthemsomehow. Comeandhaveadrink." 

           "Allright,"Martinanswered. 

           Thenextmomenthewasnonplussedbythereadinessofhisacceptance. Athomewasseveralhours’hack-workwaitingforhimbeforehewenttobed,andafterhewenttobedtherewasavolumeofWeismannwaitingforhim,tosaynothingofHerbertSpencer’sAutobiography,whichwasasrepleteforhimwithromanceasanythrillingnovel. Whyshouldhewasteanytimewiththismanhedidnotlike?washisthought. Andyet,itwasnotsomuchthemannorthedrinkaswasitwhatwasassociatedwiththedrinkthebrightlights,themirrorsanddazzlingarrayofglasses,thewarmandglowingfacesandtheresonanthumofthevoicesofmen. Thatwasit,itwasthevoicesofmen,optimisticmen,menwhobreathedsuccessandspenttheirmoneyfordrinkslikemen. Hewaslonely,thatwaswhatwasthematterwithhim; thatwaswhyhehadsnappedattheinvitationasabonitastrikesatawhiteragonahook. 

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