Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XV

           Hisarmchairagaininvitedhimfromthehearth,buthewastooagitatedtositstill,andwithsunkheadandhandsclaspedbehindhisbackhebegantowanderupanddowntheroom.

           HisfiveminuteswithSophyVinerhadflashedstrangelightsintotheshadowycornersofhisconsciousness.Thegirl’sabsolutecandour,herhardardenthonesty,wasforthemomentthevividestpointinhisthoughts.Hewonderedanew,ashehadwonderedbefore,atthewayinwhichtheharshdisciplineoflifehadstrippedheroffalsesentimentwithoutlayingtheleasttouchonherpride.Whentheyhadparted,fivemonthsbefore,shehadquietlybutdecidedlyrejectedallhisoffersofhelp,eventothesuggestionofhistryingtofurtherhertheatricalaims:shehadmadeitclearthatshewishedtheirbriefalliancetoleavenotraceontheirlivessavethatofitsownsmilingmemory.Butnowthattheywereunexpectedlyconfrontedinasituationwhichseemed,toherterrifiedfancy,toputherathismercy,herfirstimpulsewastodefendherrighttotheplaceshehadwon,andtolearnasquicklyaspossibleifhemeanttodisputeit.Whilehehadpicturedherasshrinkingawayfromhiminatremorofself-effacementshehadwatchedhismovements,madesureofheropportunity,andcomestraightdownto“haveitout”withhim.Hewassostruckbythefranknessandenergyoftheproceedingthatforamomenthelostsightoftheviewofhisowncharacterimpliedinit.

           “Poorthing...poorthing!”hecouldonlygoonsaying;andwiththerepetitionofthewordsthepictureofhimselfasshemustseehimpitiablytookshapeagain

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