Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

           I’vebeenmadtheselastdays,simplymad—youandshemightwellhavewashedyourhandsofme!Andinstead,it’sallright—allright!”

           Shedrewbackalittle,tryingtokeepthesmileonherlipsandnotlethimgettheleastglimpseofwhatithid.Nowifever,indeed,itbehovedhertobewiseandwonderful!

           “I’msoglad,dear;soglad.Ifonlyyou’llalwaysfeellikethataboutme...”Shestopped,hardlyknowingwhatshesaid,andaghastattheideathatherownhandsshouldhaveretiedtheknotsheimaginedtobebroken.Butshesawhehadsomethingmoretosay;somethinghardtogetout,butabsolutelynecessarytoexpress.Hecaughtherhands,pulledherclose,and,withhisforeheaddrawnintoitswhimsicalsmilingwrinkles,“Lookhere,”hecried,“ifDarrowwantstocallmeadamnedasstooyou’renottostophim!”

           Itbroughtherbacktoasharpersenseofhercentralperil:ofthesecrettobekeptfromhimatwhatevercosttoherrackednerves.

           “Oh,youknow,hedoesn’talwayswaitfororders!”Onthewholeitsoundedbetterthanshe’dfeared.

           “Youmeanhe’scalledmeonealready?”Heacceptedthefactwithhisgayestlaugh.“Well,thatsavesalotoftrouble;nowwecanpasstotheorderoftheday——”hebrokeoffandglancedattheclock—“whichis,youknow,dear,thatshe’sstartinginaboutanhour;sheandAdelaidemustalreadybesnatchingahastysandwich.You’llcomedowntobidthemgood-bye?”

           “Yes—ofcourse.”

           Therehad,infact,grownuponherwhilehespoketheurgencyofseeingSophyVineragainbeforesheleft.