Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

II

           

           Sheseemedtodroopalittleattheallusion;thensheliftedherchinwithajerkofdefiance.“Yes.Allisatanendbetweenus.We’vejustpartedintears—butnotinsilence!”

           “Justparted?Doyoumeantosayyou’vebeenthereallthistime?”

           “EversinceyouusedtocometheretoseeLadyUlrica?Doesitseemtoyousoawfullylongago?”

           Theunexpectednessofthethrust—aswellasitsdoubtfultaste—chilledhisgrowingenjoymentofherchatter.Hehadreallybeengettingtolikeher—hadrecovered,underthecandidapprovalofhereye,hisusualsenseofbeingapersonableyoungman,withalltheprivilegespertainingtothestate,insteadoftheanonymousragofhumanityhehadfelthimselfinthecrowdonthepier.Itannoyedhim,atthatparticularmoment,toberemindedthatnaturalnessisnotalwaysconsonantwithtaste.

           Sheseemedtoguesshisthought.“Youdon’tlikemysayingthatyoucameforLadyUlrica?”sheasked,leaningoverthetabletopourherselfasecondcupoftea.

           Helikedherquickness,atanyrate.“It’sbetter,”helaughed,“thanyourthinkingIcameforMrs.Murrett!”

           “Oh,weneverthoughtanybodycameforMrs.Murrett!Itwasalwaysforsomethingelse:themusic,orthecook—whentherewasagoodone—ortheotherpeople;generallyoneoftheotherpeople.”

           “Isee.”

           Shewasamusing,andthat,inhispresentmood,wasmoretohispurposethantheexactshadeofhertaste.Itwasodd,too,todiscoversuddenlythattheblurredtapestryofMrs.Murrett’sbackgroundhadallthewhilebeenaliveandfullofeyes.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 16 из 369