Поворот винта

           Whattheygavemeaboveallwasjustthesinisterfigureofthelivingman—thedeadonewouldkeepawhile!—andofthemonthshehadcontinuouslypassedatBly,which,addedup,madeaformidablestretch.Thelimitofthiseviltimehadarrivedonlywhen,onthedawnofawinter’smorning,PeterQuintwasfound,byalaborergoingtoearlywork,stonedeadontheroadfromthevillage:acatastropheexplained—superficiallyatleast—byavisiblewoundtohishead;suchawoundasmighthavebeenproduced—andas,onthefinalevidence,hadbeen—byafatalslip,inthedarkandafterleavingthepublichouse,onthesteepishicyslope,awrongpathaltogether,atthebottomofwhichhelay.Theicyslope,theturnmistakenatnightandinliquor,accountedformuch—practically,intheendandaftertheinquestandboundlesschatter,foreverything;buttherehadbeenmattersinhislife—strangepassagesandperils,secretdisorders,vicesmorethansuspected—thatwouldhaveaccountedforagooddealmore.

           Iscarceknowhowtoputmystoryintowordsthatshallbeacrediblepictureofmystateofmind;butIwasinthesedaysliterallyabletofindajoyintheextraordinaryflightofheroismtheoccasiondemandedofme.InowsawthatIhadbeenaskedforaserviceadmirableanddifficult;andtherewouldbeagreatnessinlettingitbeseen—oh,intherightquarter!—thatIcouldsucceedwheremanyanothergirlmighthavefailed.