Возвращение на родину

III. How a Little Sound Produced a Great Dream

           Allemotionalthingswerepossibletothespeakerofthat“goodnight.”Eustacia’simaginationsuppliedtherest—exceptthesolutiontooneriddle.WhatCOULDthetastesofthatmanbewhosawfriendlinessandgenialityintheseshaggyhills?

           Onsuchoccasionsasthisathousandideaspassthroughahighlychargedwoman’shead;andtheyindicatethemselvesonherface;butthechanges,thoughactual,areminute.Eustacia’sfeatureswentthrougharhythmicalsuccessionofthem.Sheglowed;rememberingthemendacityoftheimagination,sheflagged;thenshefreshened;thenshefired;thenshecooledagain.Itwasacycleofaspects,producedbyacycleofvisions.

           Eustaciaenteredherownhouse;shewasexcited.Hergrandfatherwasenjoyinghimselfoverthefire,rakingabouttheashesandexposingthered-hotsurfaceoftheturves,sothattheirluridglareirradiatedthechimney-cornerwiththehuesofafurnace.

           “WhyisitthatweareneverfriendlywiththeYeobrights?”shesaid,comingforwardandstretchinghersofthandsoverthewarmth.“Iwishwewere.Theyseemtobeverynicepeople.”

           “BehangedifIknowwhy,”saidthecaptain.“Ilikedtheoldmanwellenough,thoughhewasasroughasahedge.Butyouwouldneverhavecaredtogothere,evenifyoumighthave,Iamwellsure.”

           “Whyshouldn’tI?”

           “Yourtowntasteswouldfindthemfartoocountrified.Theysitinthekitchen,drinkmeadandelder-wine,andsandthefloortokeepitclean.Asensiblewayoflife;buthowwouldyoulikeit?”

           “IthoughtMrs.

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