Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXVIII

           ButyourchangeofmindobligesmetoaskthequestionIthoughtyouwouldhaveaskedyourself.Isthereanyreasonwhyyoushouldn’tmarryOwen?”

           Shestoppedalittlebreathlessly,hereyesonSophyViner’sburningface.“Anyreason——?Whatdoyoumeanbyareason?”

           Annacontinuedtolookathergravely.“Doyoulovesomeoneelse?”sheasked.

           Sophy’sfirstlookwasoneofwonderandafaintrelief;thenshegavebacktheother’sscrutinyinaglanceofindescribablereproach.“Ah,youmighthavewaited!”sheexclaimed.

           “Waited?”

           “TillI’dgone:tillIwasoutofthehouse.Youmighthaveknown...youmighthaveguessed...”SheturnedhereyesagainonAnna.“Ionlymeanttolethimhopealittlelonger,sothatheshouldn’tsuspectanything;ofcourseIcan’tmarryhim,”shesaid.

           Annastoodmotionless,silencedbytheshockoftheavowal.Shetoowastrembling,lesswithangerthanwithaconfusedcompassion.Butthefeelingwassoblentwithothers,lessgenerousandmoreobscure,thatshefoundnowordstoexpressit,andthetwowomenfacedeachotherwithoutspeaking.

           “I’dbettergo,”Sophymurmuredatlengthwithloweredhead.

           ThewordsrousedinAnnaalatentimpulseofcompunction.Thegirllookedsoyoung,soexposedanddesolate!Andwhatthoughtsmustshebehidinginherheart!Itwasimpossiblethattheyshouldpartinsuchaspirit.

           “Iwantyoutoknowthatnoonesaidanything....ItwasIwho...”

           Sophylookedather.“YoumeanthatMr.

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