Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 17

           ButIcametoseeyou.MayIstayalittle?"

           Shemurmuredassent,andsinkinglistlesslyintoachair,begantoplaywithsomerosesinavaseonthetablebesideher.

           "YoulooktiredLadySibyl,"—Isaidgently—"Areyounotwell?"

           "Iamquitewell—"sheanswered—"ButyouarerightinsayingIamtired.Iamdreadfullytired!"

           "Youhavebeendoingtoomuchperhaps?—yourattendanceonyourmothertriesyou——"

           Shelaughedbitterly.

           "Attendanceonmymother!—praydonotcreditmewithsomuchdevotion.Ineverattendonmymother.Icannotdoit;Iamtoomuchofacoward.Herfaceterrifiesme;andwheneverIdoventuretogonearher,shetriestospeak,withsuchdreadful,suchghastlyefforts,asmakehermorehideoustolookatthananyonecanimagine.IshoulddieoffrightifIsawheroften.Asitis,whenIdoseeherIcanscarcelystand—andtwiceIhavefaintedwiththehorrorofit.Tothinkofit!—thatthatlivingcorpsewiththefearfulfixedeyesanddistortedmouthshouldactuallybemymother!"

           Sheshudderedviolently,andherverylipspaledasshespoke.Iwasseriouslyconcerned,andtoldherso.

           "Thismustbeverybadforyourhealth,"—Isaid,drawingmychairclosertohers—"Canyounotgetawayforachange?"

           Shelookedatmeinsilence.Theexpressionofhereyesthrilledmestrangely—itwasnottenderorwistful,butfierce,passionateandcommanding.

           "IsawMissChesneyforafewmomentsjustnow"—Iresumed—"Sheseemedveryunhappy."

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