Возвращение на родину

III. Eustacia Dresses Herself on a Black Morning

           “Isitworthwhile?Iamundefended,andalone.”

           “Howextraordinary!”

           “Whatdoyoumean?”

           “AsthereisampletimeIwilltellyou,thoughyouknowwellenough.Imeanthatitisextraordinarythatyoushouldbealoneinmyabsence.Tellme,now,whereishewhowaswithyouontheafternoonofthethirty-firstofAugust?Underthebed?Upthechimney?”

           Ashudderovercameherandshookthelightfabricofhernightdressthroughout.“Idonotrememberdatessoexactly,”shesaid.“Icannotrecollectthatanybodywaswithmebesidesyourself.”

           “ThedayImean,”saidYeobright,hisvoicegrowinglouderandharsher,“wasthedayyoushutthedooragainstmymotherandkilledher.O,itistoomuch—toobad!”Heleantoverthefootpieceofthebedsteadforafewmoments,withhisbacktowardsher;thenrisingagain—“Tellme,tellme!tellme—doyouhear?”hecried,rushinguptoherandseizingherbytheloosefoldsofhersleeve.

           Thesuperstratumoftimiditywhichoftenoverliesthosewhoaredaringanddefiantathearthadbeenpassedthrough,andthemettlesomesubstanceofthewomanwasreached.Theredbloodinundatedherface,previouslysopale.

           “Whatareyougoingtodo?”shesaidinalowvoice,regardinghimwithaproudsmile.“Youwillnotalarmmebyholdingonso;butitwouldbeapitytotearmysleeve.”

           Insteadoflettinggohedrewherclosertohim.

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