Лето
V
Shehadneverasked,andnoonehadeverofferedtoenlightenher.NorthDormertooktheMountainforgranted,andimplieditsdisparagementbyanintonationratherthanbyexplicitcriticism.
“It’squeer,youknow,”hecontinued,“that,justoverthere,ontopofthathill,thereshouldbeahandfulofpeoplewhodon’tgiveadamnforanybody.”
Thewordsthrilledher.Theyseemedthecluetoherownrevoltsanddefiances,andshelongedtohavehimtellhermore.
“Idon’tknowmuchaboutthem.Havetheyalwaysbeenthere?”
“Nobodyseemstoknowexactlyhowlong.DownatCrestontheytoldmethatthefirstcolonistsaresupposedtohavebeenmenwhoworkedontherailwaythatwasbuiltfortyorfiftyyearsagobetweenSpringfieldandNettleton.Someofthemtooktodrink,orgotintotroublewiththepolice,andwentoff—disappearedintothewoods.AyearortwolatertherewasareportthattheywerelivingupontheMountain.ThenIsupposeothersjoinedthem—andchildrenwereborn.Nowtheysaythereareoverahundredpeopleupthere.Theyseemtobequiteoutsidethejurisdictionofthevalleys.Noschool,nochurch—andnosheriffevergoesuptoseewhatthey’reabout.Butdon’tpeopleevertalkofthematNorthDormer?”
“Idon’tknow.Theysaythey’rebad.”
Helaughed.“Dothey?We’llgoandsee,shallwe?”
Sheflushedatthesuggestion,andturnedherfacetohis.“Youneverheard,Isuppose—Icomefromthere.TheybroughtmedownwhenIwaslittle.”
“You?”Heraisedhimselfonhiselbow,lookingatherwithsuddeninterest
