Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

           Itwasasimpleenoughdress,black,andtransparentonthearmsandshoulders,andhewouldprobablynothaverecognizeditifshehadnotcalledhisattentiontoitinParisbyconfessingthatshehadn’tanyother.“Thesamedress?Thatprovesthatshe’sforgotten!”washisfirsthalf-ironicthought;butthenextmoment,withapangofcompunction,hesaidtohimselfthatshehadprobablyputitonforthesamereasonasbefore:simplybecauseshehadn’tanyother.

           Helookedatherinsilence,andforaninstant,aboveEffie’sbobbinghead,shegavehimbackhislookinafullbrightgaze.

           “Oh,there’sOwen!”Effiecried,andwhirledawaydownthegallerytothedoorfromwhichherstep-brotherwasemerging.AsOwenbenttocatchher,SophyVinerturnedabruptlybacktoDarrow.

           “You,too?”shesaidwithaquicklaugh.“Ididn’tknow——”AndasOwencameuptothemsheadded,inatonethatmighthavebeenmeanttoreachhisear:“Iwishyoualltheluckthatwecanspare!”

           Aboutthedinner-table,whichEffie,withMissViner’said,hadlavishlygarlanded,thelittlepartyhadanairofsomewhatself-consciousfestivity.Inspiteofflowers,champagneandaunanimousattemptatease,therewerefrequentlapsesinthetalk,andmomentsofnervousgropingfornewsubjects.MissPainteraloneseemednotonlyunaffectedbythegeneralperturbationbutastightlysealedupinherunconsciousnessofitasadiverinhisbell.ToDarrow’sstrainedattentionevenOwen’sgustsofgaietyseemedtobetrayaninwardsenseofinsecurity.