Пробный камень
XIII
Theyclungthusinsilence,alongtime,driventogetherdownthesamefierceblastofshame.
Whenatlengthsheliftedherfaceheavertedhis.Herscornwouldhavehurthimlessthanthetearsonhishands.
Shespokelanguidly,likeachildemergingfromapassionofweeping.“Itwasforthemoney—?”
Hislipsshapedanassent.
“Thatwastheinheritance—thatwemarriedon?”
“Yes.”
Shedrewbackandrosetoherfeet.Hesatwatchingherasshewanderedawayfromhim.
“Youhateme,”brokefromhim.
Shemadenoanswer.
“Sayyouhateme!”hepersisted.
“Thatwouldhavebeensosimple,”sheansweredwithastrangesmile.Shedroppedintoachairnearthewriting-tableandrestedabowedforeheadonherhand.
“Wasitmuch—?”shebeganatlength.
“Much—?”hereturned,vaguely.
“Themoney.”
“Themoney?”Thatpartofitseemedtocountsolittlethatforamomenthedidnotfollowherthought.
“Itmustbepaidback,”sheinsisted.“Canyoudoit?”
“Oh,yes,”hereturned,listlessly.“Icandoit.”
“Iwouldmakeanysacrificeforthat!”sheurged.
Henodded.“Ofcourse.”Hesatstaringatherindry-eyedself-contempt.“Doyoucountonitsmakingmuchdifference?”
“Muchdifference?”
“InthewayIfeel—oryoufeelaboutme?”
Sheshookherhead.
“It’stheleastpartofit,”hegroaned.
“It’stheonlypartwecanrepair.”
“Goodheavens!Iftherewereanyreparation—”Herosequicklyandcrossedthespacethatdividedthem.“Whydidyouneverspeak?”heasked.
