Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXIV

           Thesightofhim,sotranquillyabsorbedinthistriflingbusiness,seemedtogivetothequietroomaperfumeofintimacy,tofillitwithasenseofsweetfamiliarhabit;anditcameoverheragainthatsheknewnothingoftheinnerthoughtsofthismanwhowassittingbyherasahusbandmight.Thelamplightfellonhiswhiteforehead,onthehealthybrownofhischeek,thebacksofhisthinsunburnthands.Asshewatchedthehandshersenseofthembecameasvividasatouch,andshesaidtoherself:“ThatotherwomanhassatandwatchedhimasIamdoing.ShehasknownhimasIhaveneverknownhim....Perhapsheisthinkingofthatnow.OrperhapshehasforgottenitallascompletelyasIhaveforgotteneverythingthathappenedtomebeforehecame...”

           Helookedyoung,active,storedwithstrengthandenergy;notthemanforvainrepiningsorlongmemories.Shewonderedwhatshehadtoholdorsatisfyhim.Helovedhernow;shehadnodoubtofthat;buthowcouldshehopetokeephim?Theyweresonearlyofanagethatalreadyshefeltherselfhissenior.Asyetthedifferencewasnotvisible;outwardlyatleasttheywerematched;butill-healthorunhappinesswouldsoondoawaywiththisequality.Shethoughtwithapangofbitterness:“Hewon’tgrowanyolderbecausehedoesn’tfeelthings;andbecausehedoesn’t,Ishall...

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