Поворот винта
Chapter 24
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Ican’tnametheexquisitepathosofthecontradictiongiventosuchaspeechbysuchaspeaker;IonlyknowthatthenextinstantIheardmyselfthrowoffwithhomelyforce:“Stuffandnonsense!”ButthenextafterthatImusthavesoundedsternenough.“Whatwerethesethings?”
Mysternnesswasallforhisjudge,hisexecutioner;yetitmadehimaverthimselfagain,andthatmovementmademe,withasingleboundandanirrepressiblecry,springstraightuponhim.Forthereagain,againsttheglass,asiftoblighthisconfessionandstayhisanswer,wasthehideousauthorofourwoe—thewhitefaceofdamnation.Ifeltasickswimatthedropofmyvictoryandallthereturnofmybattle,sothatthewildnessofmyveritableleaponlyservedasagreatbetrayal.Isawhim,fromthemidstofmyact,meetitwithadivination,andontheperceptionthatevennowheonlyguessed,andthatthewindowwasstilltohisowneyesfree,Ilettheimpulseflameuptoconverttheclimaxofhisdismayintotheveryproofofhisliberation.“Nomore,nomore,nomore!”Ishrieked,asItriedtopresshimagainstme,tomyvisitant.
“Isshehere?”Milespantedashecaughtwithhissealedeyesthedirectionofmywords.Thenashisstrange“she”staggeredmeand,withagasp,Iechoedit,“MissJessel,MissJessel!”hewithasuddenfurygavemeback.
Iseized,stupefied,hissupposition—somesequeltowhatwehaddonetoFlora,butthismademeonlywanttoshowhimthatitwasbetterstillthanthat
