Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXIII

           ThenDarrowlaidhishandonhersandsaid:“Iknow,dear—”andthehardnessinhermelted.“He’ssufferingasIam,”shethought;andforamomentthebalefulfactbetweenthemseemedtodrawthemcloserinsteadofwallingthemupintheirseparatewretchedness.

           Itwaswonderfultobeoncemorere-enteringthedoorsofGivrewithhim,andastheoldhousereceivedthemintoitsmellowsilenceshehadagainthesenseofpassingoutofadreadfuldreamintothereassuranceofkindlyandfamiliarthings.Itdidnotseempossiblethatthesequietrooms,sofulloftheslowly-distilledaccumulationsofafastidioustaste,shouldhavebeenthesceneoftragicdissensions.Thememoryofthemseemedtobeshutoutintothenightwiththeclosingandbarringofitsdoors.

           Atthetea-tableintheoak-roomtheyfoundMadamedeChantelleandEffie.Thelittlegirl,catchingsightofDarrow,raceddownthedrawing-roomstomeethim,andreturnedintriumphonhisshoulder.Annalookedatthemwithasmile.Effie,forallhergraces,wascharyofsuchfavours,andhermotherknewthatinaccordingthemtoDarrowshehadadmittedhimtothecirclewhereOwenhadhithertoruled.

           Overthetea-tableDarrowgaveMadamedeChantelletheexplanationofhissuddenreturnfromEngland.OnreachingLondon,hetoldher,hehadfoundthatthesecretaryhewastohavereplacedwasdetainedtherebytheillnessofhiswife.

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