Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

VIII

           

           Perhapsbutforthethreedays’rainhemighthavegotawaywithoutadoubtastohisadequacy.Therainhadmadeallthedifference.Ithadthrownthewholepictureoutofperspective,blottedoutthemysteryoftheremoterplanesandtheenchantmentofthemiddledistance,andthrustintoprominenceeverycommonplacefactoftheforeground.Itwasthekindofsituationthatwasnothelpedbybeingthoughtover;andbytheperversityofcircumstancehehadbeenforcedintotheunwillingcontemplationofitseveryaspect...

           Hiscigarhadgoneoutagain,andhethrewitintothefireandvaguelymeditatedgettinguptofindanother.Butthemereactofleavinghischairseemedtocallforagreaterexertionofthewillthanhewascapableof,andheleanedhisheadbackwithclosedeyesandlistenedtothedrummingoftherain.

           Adifferentnoisearousedhim.Itwastheopeningandclosingofthedoorleadingfromthecorridorintotheadjoiningroom.Hesatmotionless,withoutopeninghiseyes;butnowanothersightforceditselfunderhisloweredlids.Itwastheprecisephotographicpictureofthatotherroom.Everythinginitrosebeforehimandpresseditselfuponhisvisionwiththesameacuityofdistinctnessastheobjectssurroundinghim.Astepsoundedonthefloor,andheknewwhichwaythestepwasdirected,whatpiecesoffurnitureithadtoskirt,whereitwouldprobablypause,andwhatwaslikelytoarrestit.Heheardanothersound,andrecognizeditasthatofawetumbrellaplacedintheblackmarblejambofthechimney-piece,againstthehearth.

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