Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXVII

           

           “Butshewaswithyou,then?”sheexclaimed;andthen,ashestaredather:“Oh,don’tsayno!Onlygoandlookatyoureyes!”

           Hestoodspeechless,andshepressedon:“Don’tdenyit—oh,don’tdenyit!Whatwillbeleftformetoimagineifyoudo?Don’tyouseehoweverysinglethingcriesitout?Owenseesit—hesawitagainjustnow!WhenItoldhimshe’drelented,andwouldseehim,hesaid:‘IsthatDarrow’sdoingtoo?’”

           Darrowtooktheonslaughtinsilence.Hemighthavespoken,havesummoneduptheusualphrasesofbanteranddenial;hewasnotevencertainthattheymightnot,forthemoment,haveservedtheirpurposeifhecouldhaveutteredthemwithoutbeingseen.ButhewasasconsciousofwhathadhappenedtohisfaceasifhehadobeyedAnna’sbiddingandlookedathimselfintheglass.Heknewhecouldnomorehidefromherwhatwaswrittentherethanhecouldeffacefromhissoulthefieryrecordofwhathehadjustlivedthrough.Therebeforehim,staringhimintheeyes,andreflectingitselfinallhislineaments,wastheoverwhelmingfactofSophyViner’spassionandoftheactbywhichshehadattestedit.

           Annawastalkingagain,hurriedly,feverishly,andhissoulwaswrungbytheanguishinhervoice.“Dospeakatlast—youmustspeak!Idon’twanttoaskyoutoharmthegirl;butyoumustseethatyoursilenceisdoinghermoreharmthanyouransweringmyquestionscould.You’releavingmeonlytheworstthingstothinkofher...she’dseethatherselfifshewerehere.

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