Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXII

           Shedidnotknowwhatsheanswered:sheheardhimsay:“Ican’thear.”Shecalled“Yes!”andlaidthetelephonedown,andcaughtitupagain—buthewasgone.Shewonderedifher“Yes”hadreachedhim.

           Shesatinherchairandlistened.Whyhadshesaidthatshewouldseehim?Whatdidshemeantosaytohimwhenhecame?Nowandthen,asshesatthere,thesenseofhispresenceenvelopedherasinherdream,andsheshuthereyesandfelthisarmsabouther.Thenshewoketorealityandshivered.Alongtimeelapsed,andatlengthshesaidtoherself:“Heisn’tcoming.”

           Thedoor-bellrangasshesaidit,andshestoodup,coldandtrembling.Shethought:“Canheimaginethere’sanyuseincoming?”andmovedforwardtobidtheservantsayshecouldnotseehim.

           Thedooropenedandshesawhimstandinginthedrawing-room.Theroomwascoldandfireless,andahardglarefellfromthewall-lightsontheshroudedfurnitureandthewhiteslipscoveringthecurtains.Helookedpaleandstern,withafrownoffatiguebetweenhiseyes;andsherememberedthatinthreedayshehadtravelledfromGivretoLondonandback.Itseemedincrediblethatallthathadbefallenhershouldhavebeencompressedwithinthespaceofthreedays!

           “Thankyou,”hesaidasshecamein.

           Sheanswered:“It’sbetter,Isuppose——”

           Hecametowardherandtookherinhisarms.Shestruggledalittle,afraidofyielding,buthepressedhertohim,notbendingtoherbutholdingherfast,asthoughhehadfoundherafteralongsearch:sheheardhishurriedbreathing.

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