Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

I

           

           Ashespoke,asurgeofthecrowddrovetheowneroftheumbrellaabruptlydownonhim.Darrowsteadiedherwithextendedarms,andregainingherfootingshecriedout:“Oh,dear,oh,dear!It’sinribbons!”

           Herliftedface,freshandflushedinthedrivingrain,wokeinhimamemoryofhavingseenitatadistanttimeandinavaguelyunsympatheticsetting;butitwasnomomenttofollowupsuchclues,andthefacewasobviouslyonetomakeitswayonitsownmerits.

           Itspossessorhaddroppedherbagandbundlestoclutchatthetatteredumbrella.“IboughtitonlyyesterdayattheStores;and—yes—it’sutterlydonefor!”shelamented.

           Darrowsmiledattheintensityofherdistress.Itwasfoodforthemoralistthat,sidebysidewithsuchcatastrophesashis,humannaturewasstillagitatingitselfoveritsmicroscopicwoes!

           “Here’smineifyouwantit!”heshoutedbackatherthroughtheshoutingofthegale.

           Theoffercausedtheyoungladytolookathimmoreintently.“Why,it’sMr.Darrow!”sheexclaimed;andthen,allradiantrecognition:“Oh,thankyou!We’llshareit,ifyouwill.”

           Sheknewhim,then;andheknewher;buthowandwherehadtheymet?Heputasidetheproblemforsubsequentsolution,anddrawingherintoamoreshelteredcorner,badeherwaittillhecouldfindhisporter.

           When,afewminuteslater,hecamebackwithhisrecoveredproperty,andthenewsthattheboatwouldnotleavetillthetidehadturned,sheshowednoconcern.

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