Сестра Керри

Chapter XXIX. The Solace Of Travel: The Boats Of The Sea

           Now,I’vemadeupmymindwhattodo.I’vealreadywrittenFitzgeraldandMoy,sothere’snothingIcansay.Youwaituntilyouhearmorefromthem.”

           Allthetimehehadbeentalkinghehadbeenmovingawayfromthedoor,downthecorridor,outofthehearingofCarrie.Theywerenowneartheendwherethecorridoropenedintothelargegeneralparlour.

           “Youwon’tgiveitup?”saidtheman.

           ThewordsirritatedHurstwoodgreatly.Hotbloodpouredintohisbrain.Manythoughtsformulatedthemselves.Hewasnothief.Hedidn’twantthemoney.IfhecouldonlyexplaintoFitzgeraldandMoy,maybeitwouldbeallrightagain.

           “Seehere,”hesaid,“there’snousemytalkingaboutthisatall.Irespectyourpowerallright,butI’llhavetodealwiththepeoplewhoknow.”

           “Well,youcan’tgetoutofCanadawithit,”saidtheman.

           “Idon’twanttogetout,”saidHurstwood.“WhenIgetreadythere’llbenothingtostopmefor.”

           Heturnedback,andthedetectivewatchedhimclosely.Itseemedanintolerablething.Stillhewentonandintotheroom.

           “Whowasit?”askedCarrie.

           “AfriendofminefromChicago.”

           Thewholeofthisconversationwassuchashockthat,comingasitdidafteralltheotherworryofthepastweek,itsufficedtoinduceadeepgloomandmoralrevulsioninHurstwood.Whathurthimmostwasthefactthathewasbeingpursuedasathief.Hebegantoseethenatureofthatsocialinjusticewhichseesbutoneside—oftenbutasinglepointinalongtragedy.Allthenewspapersnotedbutonething,histakingthemoney.

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