Лорд Джим

Chapter 33

           ForamomentIhadaviewofaworldthatseemedtowearavastanddismalaspectofdisorder,while,intruth,thankstoourunweariedefforts,itisassunnyasarrangementofsmallconveniencesasthemindofmancanconceive.Butstill—itwasonlyamoment:Iwentbackintomyshelldirectly.Onemust—don’tyouknow?—thoughIseemedtohavelostallmywordsinthechaosofdarkthoughtsIhadcontemplatedforasecondortwobeyondthepale.Thesecameback,too,verysoon,forwordsalsobelongtotheshelteringconceptionoflightandorderwhichisourrefuge.Ihadthemreadyatmydisposalbeforeshewhisperedsoftly,“Hesworehewouldneverleaveme,whenwestoodtherealone!Hesworetome!”...“Anditispossiblethatyou—you!donotbelievehim?”Iasked,sincerelyreproachful,genuinelyshocked.Whycouldn’tshebelieve?Whereforethiscravingforincertitude,thisclingingtofear,asifincertitudeandfearhadbeenthesafeguardsofherlove.Itwasmonstrous.Sheshouldhavemadeforherselfashelterofinexpugnablepeaceoutofthathonestaffection.Shehadnottheknowledge—nottheskillperhaps.Thenighthadcomeonapace;ithadgrownpitch-darkwherewewere,sothatwithoutstirringshehadfadedliketheintangibleformofawistfulandperversespirit.AndsuddenlyIheardherquietwhisperagain,“Othermenhadswornthesamething.”Itwaslikeameditativecommentonsomethoughtsfullofsadness,ofawe.Andsheadded,stilllowerifpossible,“Myfatherdid.

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