Поворот винта

           Thegloveshadbeendroppedthere,andIturnedintorecoverthem.Thedaywasgrayenough,buttheafternoonlightstilllingered,anditenabledme,oncrossingthethreshold,notonlytorecognize,onachairnearthewidewindow,thenclosed,thearticlesIwanted,buttobecomeawareofapersonontheothersideofthewindowandlookingstraightin.Onestepintotheroomhadsufficed;myvisionwasinstantaneous;itwasallthere.Thepersonlookingstraightinwasthepersonwhohadalreadyappearedtome.HeappearedthusagainwithIwon’tsaygreaterdistinctness,forthatwasimpossible,butwithanearnessthatrepresentedaforwardstrideinourintercourseandmademe,asImethim,catchmybreathandturncold.Hewasthesame—hewasthesame,andseen,thistime,ashehadbeenseenbefore,fromthewaistup,thewindow,thoughthediningroomwasonthegroundfloor,notgoingdowntotheterraceonwhichhestood.Hisfacewasclosetotheglass,yettheeffectofthisbetterviewwas,strangely,onlytoshowmehowintensetheformerhadbeen.Heremainedbutafewseconds—longenoughtoconvincemehealsosawandrecognized;butitwasasifIhadbeenlookingathimforyearsandhadknownhimalways.Something,however,happenedthistimethathadnothappenedbefore;hisstareintomyface,throughtheglassandacrosstheroom,wasasdeepandhardasthen,butitquittedmeforamomentduringwhichIcouldstillwatchit,seeitfixsuccessivelyseveralotherthings.