Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter IV
Atlength,oneday,aboutaweekafterAnnixter’sarrivalinthecity,shewasprevailedupontogoforawalkinthepark.Shewentalone,puttingonforthefirsttimethelittlehatofblackstrawwithitspuffofwhitesilkhermotherhadboughtforher,apinkshirtwaist,herbeltofimitationalligatorskin,hernewskirtofbrowncloth,andherlowshoes,setoffwiththeirlittlesteelbuckles.
Shefoundatinysummerhouse,builtinJapanesefashion,aroundadiminutivepond,andsatthereforawhile,herhandsfoldedinherlap,amusedwithwatchingthegoldfish,wishing—sheknewnotwhat.
Withoutanywarning,Annixtersatdownbesideher.Shewastoofrightenedtomove.Shelookedathimwithwideeyesthatbegantofillwithtears.
“Oh,”shesaid,atlast,“oh—Ididn’tknow.”
“Well,”exclaimedAnnixter,“hereyouareatlast.I’vebeenwatchingthatblamedhousetillIwasafraidthepolicemanwouldmovemeon.BytheLord,”hesuddenlycried,“you’repale.You—you,Hilma,doyoufeelwell?”
“Yes—Iamwell,”shefaltered.
“No,you’renot,”hedeclared.“Iknowbetter.YouarecomingbacktoQuienSabewithme.Thisplacedon’tagreewithyou.Hilma,what’sallthematter?Whyhaven’tyouletmeseeyouallthistime?Doyouknow—howthingsarewithme?Yourmothertoldyou,didn’tshe?DoyouknowhowsorryIam?DoyouknowthatIseenowthatImadethemistakeofmylifethere,thattime,undertheLongTrestle?Ifounditoutthenightafteryouwentaway.
