Сестра Керри

Chapter VIII. Intimations By Winter: An Ambassador Summoned

           SomehowtheswayingofsomedeadbranchesoftreesacrossthewaybroughtbackthepicturewithwhichshewasfamiliarwhenshelookedfromtheirfrontwindowinDecemberdaysathome.Shepausedandwrungherlittlehands.

           “What’sthematter?”saidDrouet.

           “Oh,Idon’tknow,”shesaid,herliptrembling.

           Hesensedsomething,andslippedhisarmoverhershoulder,pattingherarm.

           “Comeon,”hesaidgently,“you’reallright.”

           Sheturnedtosliponherjacket.

           “Betterwearthatboaaboutyourthroatto-night.”

           TheywalkednorthonWabashtoAdamsStreetandthenwest.Thelightsinthestoreswerealreadyshiningoutingushesofgoldenhue.Thearclightsweresputteringoverhead,andhighupwerethelightedwindowsofthetallofficebuildings.Thechillwindwhippedinandoutingustybreaths.Homewardbound,thesixo’clockthrongbumpedandjostled.Lightovercoatswereturnedupabouttheears,hatswerepulleddown.Littleshop-girlswentflutteringbyinpairsandfours,chattering,laughing.Itwasaspectacleofwarm-bloodedhumanity.

           SuddenlyapairofeyesmetCarrie’sinrecognition.Theywerelookingoutfromagroupofpoorlydressedgirls.Theirclotheswerefadedandloose-hanging,theirjacketsold,theirgeneralmake-upshabby.

           Carrierecognisedtheglanceandthegirl.Shewasoneofthosewhoworkedatthemachinesintheshoefactory.Thelatterlooked,notquitesure,andthenturnedherheadandlooked.Carriefeltasifsomegreattidehadrolledbetweenthem.Theolddressandtheoldmachinecameback.Sheactuallystarted.

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