Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

IV

           —Thatis,”headded,“ifthere’sanysortofchanceofgettingseats.”

           Theflashofastreetlamplitupherradiantface.“Oh,willyoureallytakeus?Whatfuntothinkthatit’stomorrowalready!”

           Itwaswonderfullypleasanttobeabletogivesuchpleasure.Darrowwasnotrich,butitwasalmostimpossibleforhimtopicturethestateofpersonswithtastesandperceptionslikehisown,towhomaneveningatthetheatrewasanunattainableindulgence.TherefloatedthroughhismindananswerofMrs.Leath’stohisenquirywhethershehadseentheplayinquestion.“No.Imeantto,ofcourse,butoneissooverwhelmedwiththingsinParis.AndthenI’mrathersickofCerdine—oneisalwaysbeingdraggedtoseeher.”

           That,amongthepeoplehefrequented,wastheusualattitudetowardsuchopportunities.Thereweretoomany,theywereanuisance,onehadtodefendone’sself!Heevenrememberedwondering,atthemoment,whethertoareallyfinetastetheexceptionalthingcouldeverbecomeindifferentthroughhabit;whethertheappetiteforbeautywassosoondulledthatitcouldbekeptaliveonlybyprivation.Here,atanyrate,wasafinechancetoexperimentwithsuchahunger:healmostwishedhemightstayoninParislongenoughtotakethemeasureofMissViner’sreceptivity.

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