Вдали от безумной толпы

XXVI. Scene on the Verge of the Hay-Mead

           "

           "That’sunjust—butIwon’trepeattheremark.Iamtoogratifiedtogetsuchamarkofyourfriendshipatanypricetocavilatthetone.Ido,MissEverdene,careforit.Youmaythinkamanfoolishtowantamereword—justagoodmorning.Perhapsheis—Idon’tknow.Butyouhaveneverbeenamanlookinguponawoman,andthatwomanyourself."

           "Well."

           "Thenyouknownothingofwhatsuchanexperienceislike—andHeavenforbidthatyouevershould!"

           "Nonsense,flatterer!Whatisitlike?Iaminterestedinknowing."

           "Putshortly,itisnotbeingabletothink,hear,orlookinanydirectionexceptonewithoutwretchedness,northerewithouttorture."

           "Ah,sergeant,itwon’tdo—youarepretending!"shesaid,shakingherhead."Yourwordsaretoodashingtobetrue."

           "Iamnot,uponthehonourofasoldier."

           "Butwhyisitso?—OfcourseIaskformerepastime."

           "Becauseyouaresodistracting—andIamsodistracted."

           "Youlooklikeit."

           "Iamindeed."

           "Why,youonlysawmetheothernight!"

           "Thatmakesnodifference.Thelightningworksinstantaneously.Ilovedyouthen,atonce—asIdonow."

           Bathshebasurveyedhimcuriously,fromthefeetupward,ashighasshelikedtoventureherglance,whichwasnotquitesohighashiseyes.

           "Youcannotandyoudon’t,"shesaiddemurely."Thereisnosuchsuddenfeelinginpeople.Iwon’tlistentoyouanylonger.Hearme,IwishIknewwhato’clockitis—Iamgoing—Ihavewastedtoomuchtimeherealready!"

           Thesergeantlookedathiswatchandtoldher."What,haven’tyouawatch,miss?"heinquired.

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