Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXVIII

           Butwhatneedwasthereofassuminganexplicitstatement,wheneverybreaththeyhaddrawnforthelastweekshadbeenchargedwiththeimmanentsecret?AsshelookedbackoverthedayssinceDarrow’sfirstarrivalatGivresheperceivedthatatnotimehadanyonedeliberatelyspoken,oranythingbeenaccidentallydisclosed.Thetruthhadcometolightbytheforceofitsirresistiblepressure;andtheperceptiongaveherastartledsenseofhiddenpowers,ofachaosofattractionsandrepulsionsfarbeneaththeorderedsurfacesofintercourse.Shelookedbackwithmelancholyderisiononheroldconceptionoflife,asakindofwell-litandwellpolicedsuburbtodarkplacesoneneedneverknowabout.Heretheywere,thesedarkplaces,inherownbosom,andhenceforthshewouldalwayshavetotraversethemtoreachthebeingsshelovedbest!

           Shewasstillsittingbesidetheuntouchedtea-tablewhensheheardDarrow’svoiceinthehall.Shestartedup,sayingtoherself:“ImusttellhimthatOwenknows...”butwhenthedooropenedandshesawhisface,stilllitbythesamesmileofboyishtriumph,shefeltanewtheuselessnessofspeaking....HadheeversupposedthatOwenwouldnotknow?Probably,fromtheheightofhisgreaterexperience,hehadseenlongsincethatallthathappenedwasinevitable;andthethoughtofit,atanyrate,wasclearlynotweighingonhimnow.

           Hewasalreadydressedfortheevening,andashecametowardherhesaid:“TheAmbassador’sbookedforanofficialdinnerandI’mfreeafterall.

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