Возвращение на родину

V. Sharp Words Are Spoken, and a Crisis Ensues

           Thesceneseemedtobelongtotheancientworldofthecarboniferousperiod,whentheformsofplantswerefew,andofthefernkind;whentherewasneitherbudnorblossom,nothingbutamonotonousextentofleafage,amidwhichnobirdsang.

           Whenhehadreclinedforsomeconsiderabletime,gloomilypondering,hediscernedabovethefernsadrawnbonnetofwhitesilkapproachingfromtheleft,andYeobrightknewdirectlythatitcoveredtheheadofherheloved.Hisheartawokefromitsapathytoawarmexcitement,and,jumpingtohisfeet,hesaidaloud,“Iknewshewassuretocome.”

           Shevanishedinahollowforafewmoments,andthenherwholeformunfoldeditselffromthebrake.

           “Onlyyouhere?”sheexclaimed,withadisappointedair,whosehollownesswasprovedbyherrisingrednessandherhalf-guiltylowlaugh.“WhereisMrs.Yeobright?”

           “Shehasnotcome,”herepliedinasubduedtone.

           “IwishIhadknownthatyouwouldbeherealone,”shesaidseriously,“andthatweweregoingtohavesuchanidle,pleasanttimeasthis.Pleasurenotknownbeforehandishalfwasted;toanticipateitistodoubleit.Ihavenotthoughtoncetodayofhavingyoualltomyselfthisafternoon,andtheactualmomentofathingissosoongone.”

           “Itisindeed.”

           “PoorClym!”shecontinued,lookingtenderlyintohisface.“Youaresad.Somethinghashappenedatyourhome.Nevermindwhatis—letusonlylookatwhatseems.”

           “But,darling,whatshallwedo?”saidhe.

           “Stillgoonaswedonow—justliveonfrommeetingtomeeting,nevermindingaboutanotherday.

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