Поворот винта

           Itwasanimmensehelptome—IconfessIratherapplaudmyselfasIlookback!—thatIsawmyservicesostronglyandsosimply.Iwastheretoprotectanddefendthelittlecreaturesintheworldthemostbereavedandthemostlovable,theappealofwhosehelplessnesshadsuddenlybecomeonlytooexplicit,adeep,constantacheofone’sowncommittedheart.Wewerecutoff,really,together;wewereunitedinourdanger.Theyhadnothingbutme,andI—well,Ihadthem.Itwasinshortamagnificentchance.Thischancepresenteditselftomeinanimagerichlymaterial.Iwasascreen—Iwastostandbeforethem.ThemoreIsaw,thelesstheywould.Ibegantowatchtheminastifledsuspense,adisguisedexcitementthatmightwell,haditcontinuedtoolong,haveturnedtosomethinglikemadness.Whatsavedme,asInowsee,wasthatitturnedtosomethingelsealtogether.Itdidn’tlastassuspense—itwassupersededbyhorribleproofs.Proofs,Isay,yes—fromthemomentIreallytookhold.

           ThismomentdatedfromanafternoonhourthatIhappenedtospendinthegroundswiththeyoungerofmypupilsalone.WehadleftMilesindoors,ontheredcushionofadeepwindowseat;hehadwishedtofinishabook,andIhadbeengladtoencourageapurposesolaudableinayoungmanwhoseonlydefectwasanoccasionalexcessoftherestless.Hissister,onthecontrary,hadbeenalerttocomeout,andIstrolledwithherhalfanhour,seekingtheshade,forthesunwasstillhighandthedayexceptionallywarm.