Вдали от безумной толпы

VII. Recognition—A Timid Girl

           Thenoisewasenoughtodisturbthemotionlessstranger,whostartedandassumedacarelessposition.

           Itwasaslimgirl,ratherthinlyclad.

           "Good-nighttoyou,"saidGabriel,heartily.

           "Good-night,"saidthegirltoGabriel.

           Thevoicewasunexpectedlyattractive;itwasthelowanddulcetnotesuggestiveofromance;commonindescriptions,rareinexperience.

           "I’llthankyoutotellmeifI’minthewayforWarren’sMalthouse?"Gabrielresumed,primarilytogaintheinformation,indirectlytogetmoreofthemusic.

           "Quiteright.It’satthebottomofthehill.Anddoyouknow"Thegirlhesitatedandthenwentonagain."DoyouknowhowlatetheykeepopentheBuck’sHeadInn?"SheseemedtobewonbyGabriel’sheartiness,asGabrielhadbeenwonbyhermodulations.

           "Idon’tknowwheretheBuck’sHeadis,oranythingaboutit.Doyouthinkofgoingthereto-night?"

           "Yes"Thewomanagainpaused.Therewasnonecessityforanycontinuanceofspeech,andthefactthatshedidaddmoreseemedtoproceedfromanunconsciousdesiretoshowunconcernbymakingaremark,whichisnoticeableintheingenuouswhentheyareactingbystealth."YouarenotaWeatherburyman?"shesaid,timorously.

           "Iamnot.Iamthenewshepherdjustarrived."

           "Onlyashepherdandyouseemalmostafarmerbyyourways."

           "Onlyashepherd,"Gabrielrepeated,inadullcadenceoffinality.Histhoughtsweredirectedtothepast,hiseyestothefeetofthegirl;andforthefirsttimehesawlyingthereabundleofsomesort.

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