Лорд Джим

Chapter 32

           “Isitnotstrange,”hewentoninagentle,almostyearningtone,“thatallthesepeople,allthesepeoplewhowoulddoanythingforme,canneverbemadetounderstand?Never!IfyoudisbelievedmeIcouldnotcallthemup.Itseemshard,somehow.Iamstupid,amInot?WhatmorecanIwant?Ifyouaskthemwhoisbravewhoistruewhoisjustwhoisittheywouldtrustwiththeirlives?theywouldsay,TuanJim.Andyettheycanneverknowthereal,realtruth...

           ‘That’swhathesaidtomeonmylastdaywithhim.Ididnotletamurmurescapeme:Ifelthewasgoingtosaymore,andcomenonearertotherootofthematter.Thesun,whoseconcentratedglaredwarfstheearthintoarestlessmoteofdust,hadsunkbehindtheforest,andthediffusedlightfromanopalskyseemedtocastuponaworldwithoutshadowsandwithoutbrilliancetheillusionofacalmandpensivegreatness.Idon’tknowwhy,listeningtohim,Ishouldhavenotedsodistinctlythegradualdarkeningoftheriver,oftheair;theirresistibleslowworkofthenightsettlingsilentlyonallthevisibleforms,effacingtheoutlines,buryingtheshapesdeeperanddeeper,likeasteadyfallofimpalpableblackdust.

           ‘“Jove!”hebeganabruptly,“therearedayswhenafellowistooabsurdforanything;onlyIknowIcantellyouwhatIlike.Italkaboutbeingdonewithitwiththeballythingatthebackofmyhead...Forgetting...HangmeifIknow!Icanthinkofitquietly.Afterall,whathasitproved?Nothing.

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