Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XVIII

           “Andthat’sall—positivelyall—you’veeversaidtohim?”

           “Positivelyall.Butwhydoyouask?”

           Hehadamoment’sembarrassedhesitation.“Itwasunderstood,wasn’tit,thatmygrandmotherwastobethefirsttoknow?”

           “Well—andsoshehasbeen,hasn’tshe,sinceyou’vetoldher?”

           Heturnedbacktohisrestlessshiftingoftheknick-knacks.

           “Andyou’resurethatnothingyou’vesaidtoDarrowcouldpossiblyhavegivenhimahint——?”

           “NothingI’vesaidtohim—certainly.”

           Heswungaboutonher.“Whydoyouputitinthatway?”

           “Inwhatway?”

           “Why—asifyouthoughtsomeoneelsemighthavespoken...”

           “Someoneelse?Whoelse?”Sherosetoherfeet.“Whatonearth,mydearboy,canyoubedrivingat?”

           “I’mtryingtofindoutwhetheryouthinkheknowsanythingdefinite.”

           “WhyshouldIthinkso?Doyou?”

           “Idon’tknow.Iwanttofindout.”

           Shelaughedathisobstinateinsistence.“Totestmyveracity,Isuppose?”Atthesoundofastepinthegallerysheadded:“Hereheis—youcanaskhimyourself.”

           ShemetDarrow’sknockwithaninvitationtoenter,andhecameintotheroomandpausedbetweenherselfandOwen.Shewasstruck,ashestoodthere,bythecontrastbetweenhishappycarelessgood-looksandherstep-son’sfrowningagitation.

           Darrowmethereyeswithasmile.“AmItoosoon?Orisourwalkgivenup?”

           “No;Iwasjustgoingtogetready.”Shecontinuedtolingerbetweenthetwo,lookingslowlyfromonetotheother.“Butthere’ssomethingwewanttotellyoufirst:OwenisengagedtoMissViner.

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