Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXVII

           

           “Oh,don’t—Ihatethelight!”Owenexclaimed,catchingherbythewristandpushingherbackintoherseat.Hegaveanervouslaughandadded:“I’mhalf-blindwithneuralgia.Isupposeit’sthisbeastlyrain.”

           “Yes;itwilldoyougoodtogetdowntoSpain.”

           Sheaskedifhehadtheremediesthedoctorhadgivenhimforapreviousattack,andonhisreplyingthathedidn’tknowwhathe’ddonewiththestuff,shesprangup,offeringtogotothechemist’s.Itwasarelieftohavesomethingtodoforhim,andsheknewfromhis“Oh,thanks—wouldyou?”thatitwasarelieftohimtohaveapretextfornotdetainingher.Hisnaturalimpulsewouldhavebeentodeclarethathedidn’twantanydrugs,andwouldbeallrightinnotime;andhisacquiescenceshowedherhowprofoundlyhefelttheuselessnessoftheirtryingtoprolongtheirtalk.Hisfacewasnownomorethanawhiteblurinthedusk,butshefeltitsindistinctnessasaveildrawnoverachingintensitiesofexpression.“Heknows...heknows...”shesaidtoherself,andwonderedwhetherthetruthhadbeenrevealedtohimbysomecorroborativefactorbythesheerforceofdivination.

           Hehadrisenalso,andwasclearlywaitingforhertogo,andsheturnedtothedoor,saying:“I’llbebackinamoment.”

           “Oh,don’tcomeupagain,please!”Hepaused,embarrassed.“Imean—Imaynotbehere.I’vegottogoandpickupRempson,andseeaboutsomefinalthingswithhim.”Shestoppedonthethresholdwithasinkingheart

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