Поворот винта

           Therewasonedirection,assuredly,inwhichthesediscoveriesstopped:deepobscuritycontinuedtocovertheregionoftheboy’sconductatschool.Ithadbeenpromptlygivenme,Ihavenoted,tofacethatmysterywithoutapang.Perhapsevenitwouldbenearerthetruthtosaythat—withoutaword—hehimselfhadcleareditup.Hehadmadethewholechargeabsurd.Myconclusionbloomedtherewiththerealroseflushofhisinnocence:hewasonlytoofineandfairforthelittlehorrid,uncleanschool-world,andhehadpaidapriceforit.Ireflectedacutelythatthesenseofsuchdifferences,suchsuperioritiesofquality,always,onthepartofthemajority—whichcouldincludeevenstupid,sordidheadmasters—turninfalliblytothevindictive.

           Boththechildrenhadagentleness(itwastheironlyfault,anditnevermadeMilesamuff)thatkeptthem—howshallIexpressit?—almostimpersonalandcertainlyquiteunpunishable.Theywerelikethecherubsoftheanecdote,whohad—morally,atanyrate—nothingtowhack!IrememberfeelingwithMilesinespecialasifhehadhad,asitwere,nohistory.Weexpectofasmallchildascantone,buttherewasinthisbeautifullittleboysomethingextraordinarilysensitive,yetextraordinarilyhappy,that,morethaninanycreatureofhisageIhaveseen,struckmeasbeginninganeweachday.Hehadneverforasecondsuffered.Itookthisasadirectdisproofofhishavingreallybeenchastised.