Поворот винта

           Buttherewasnootherchangeinnature,unlessindeeditwereachangethatIsawwithastrangersharpness.Thegoldwasstillinthesky,theclearnessintheair,andthemanwholookedatmeoverthebattlementswasasdefiniteasapictureinaframe.That’showIthought,withextraordinaryquickness,ofeachpersonthathemighthavebeenandthathewasnot.Wewereconfrontedacrossourdistancequitelongenoughformetoaskmyselfwithintensitywhothenhewasandtofeel,asaneffectofmyinabilitytosay,awonderthatinafewinstantsmorebecameintense.

           Thegreatquestion,oroneofthese,is,afterward,Iknow,withregardtocertainmatters,thequestionofhowlongtheyhavelasted.Well,thismatterofmine,thinkwhatyouwillofit,lastedwhileIcaughtatadozenpossibilities,noneofwhichmadeadifferenceforthebetter,thatIcouldsee,intherehavingbeeninthehouse—andforhowlong,aboveall?—apersonofwhomIwasinignorance.ItlastedwhileIjustbridledalittlewiththesensethatmyofficedemandedthatthereshouldbenosuchignoranceandnosuchperson.Itlastedwhilethisvisitant,atallevents—andtherewasatouchofthestrangefreedom,asIremember,inthesignoffamiliarityofhiswearingnohat—seemedtofixme,fromhisposition,withjustthequestion,justthescrutinythroughthefadinglight,thathisownpresenceprovoked