Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XIX

           “Why?ButsurelyI’veexplainedtoyou—orratherI’vehardlyhadto,youseemedsoinsympathywithmyreasons!”

           “Ididn’tknow,then,whoitwasthatOwenwantedtomarry.”

           Thewordswereoutwithaspringandhefeltaclearerairinhisbrain.Butherlogichemmedhimin.

           “Youknewyesterday;andyouassuredmethenthatyouhadn’tawordtosay——”

           “AgainstMissViner?”Thename,onceuttered,soundedonandoninhisears.“Ofcoursenot.Butthatdoesn’tnecessarilyimplythatIthinkheragoodmatchforOwen.”

           Annamadenoimmediateanswer.Whenshespokeitwastoquestion:“Whydon’tyouthinkheragoodmatchforOwen?”

           “Well—MadamedeChantelle’sreasonsseemtomenotquiteasnegligibleasyouthink.”

           “Youmeanthefactthatshe’sbeenMrs.Murrett’ssecretary,andthatthepeoplewhoemployedherbeforewerecalledHoke?For,asfarasOwenandIcanmakeout,thesearethegravestchargesagainsther.”

           “Still,onecanunderstandthatthematchisnotwhatMadamedeChantellehaddreamedof.”

           “Oh,perfectly—ifthat’sallyoumean.”Thelodgewasinsight,andshehastenedherstep.Hestrodeonbesideherinsilence,butatthegateshecheckedhimwiththequestion:“Isitreallyallyoumean?”

           “Ofcourse,”heheardhimselfdeclare.

           “Oh,thenIthinkIshallconvinceyou—evenifIcan’t,likeMadamedeChantelle,summonalltheEverardstomyaid!”Sheliftedtohimthelookofhappylaughterthatsometimesbrushedherwithagleamofspring

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